Teacher Trauma
by XXThistlexFlowerXX
Summary: Iruka had always wanted to be a teacher, but he had planned on graduating high school first! A handsome, silver-haired student discovers his secret, and Iruka knows that he's about to enter what could either be the worst or best year of his life. Kakairu
1. Not Really the Best First Impression

Disclaimer: It would be a terrible, terrible day for Yaoi Haters if I owned Naruto. KakaIru, SasoDei, SasuNaru, KoZumo, GaaLee, GenRai, and Ita(does it really matter? UCHIHA HOTNESS!) would be everywhere on the screen, and the show would NEVER be for the eyes of children *begins to drool* *is shot*

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><p><em><strong>Chapter One<strong>_

_Not Really the Best First Impression_

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><p>Iruka ran down the sidewalk as fast as he could, his brand new black slacks and white collar shirt now very soaked through. Even though it was supposed to be spring, a cold front had brought successive, bitter cold rainstorms to the area.<p>

Iruka shuddered against a particularly arctic gust of wind. He tried to shield some of his body with his suitcase, but the wind whipped the stinging water droplets violently through the air, so it was pretty hopeless. Even the huge masses of people around him didn't provide any shelter from the storm. In only a cotton dress-shirt, there wasn't much protection. He had taken off his jacket and stuffed it into the case, hoping to keep at least that dry so he wouldn't completely embarrass himself today. He focused on weaving through the morning rush, trying to get to his destination as quickly as possible. Already, he had been slapped in the face by numerous umbrellas, and bumped by more aggressive civilians who were also trying to get out of the rain.

He could barely see in front of him through the gale, and he silently cursed all of the higher powers that it would be today of all days that they would be bent on making him as miserable as possible.

It was his _first day_, for crying out loud, and he was already screwing it up.

As if it wasn't enough that his alarm clock had died sometime during the night, causing him to wake at a hideously late hour, or that the hot water in his apartment wasn't working, or that he had run out of coffee, or that his little brother had lost the directions to his bus stop station so Iruka had to take him there, now God had decided to grace the sweltering city with the miracle that was rain.

On the _one day_ that Iruka forgot to pack his fold-up umbrella.

Yeah, this was _not_ his day.

Now, he was desperately trying to reach his bus stop, even though he was very unfamiliar with the area. After all, he had just moved to the city of Konoha yesterday along with his little brother, just in time for him to start his new job. Really, he had been planning to move a week before his job began, but both him and his brother had fallen ill with the flu, and had to remain bedridden. Arriving to their new apartment at eleven thirty last night, both of them had crashed shortly after unpacking only the bare essentials, such as the coffee maker. Iruka really loved his coffee in the morning. . . But sadly, this morning it was simply not meant to be.

Iruka's lithe frame allowed him to move quickly on his feet, but that also meant that he wasn't a powerful person, leaving him at a disadvantage. City dwellers could be the biggest assholes on the face of the planet. This theory was exemplified when Iruka suddenly found himself sprawling to the ground, landing hard in a murky puddle of rain water.

"Watch where you're going, brat!" someone growled from above him, but didn't even pause as they walked past, unceremoniously splashing water into Iruka's face.

_Well, so much for looking professional_, Iruka thought sourly as he spat out the disgusting water, grimacing as he felt particles of dirt in between his teeth.

Scrambling to his feet to avoid being trampled, he glared down at his now ruined white shirt. He could feel his temper reach the boiling point, negative aura beginning to roll off of him in waves.

_Just breathe, Iruka. There isn't enough time in the world to bitch out every bastard you meet. In and out. In and out. _

Taking deep, calming breaths that would do well to ensure a stable mental state, Iruka resumed his frantic running.

He skidded to a halt at the bus stop, and his skin tingled at the lack of sharp raindrops pelting his skin once he stepped under the sheltered area. Gasping for air, he wiped the water from his face and eyes, peeling back the hair from his face so that he could see better. At any rate, he probably resembled a wet dog more than anything.

There was no one else at the bus stop, except one other person sitting hunched over on the waiting bench. Even sitting, Iruka could tell that the man was enormous and would easily tower over Iruka if they were standing beside each other. He had very long, spiky white hair that was tied in a ponytail, and was sitting laxly against the bench. A newspaper was open wide in front of him, blocking his face from view.

Iruka stumbled towards the bench and reached forward to tap the man's arm.

"E-Excuse me!" he gasped, still trying to catch his breath.

The man didn't seem to hear him, and Iruka froze as a low, creepy laugh rang from deep within the large man's chest. Now more hesitant, Iruka tried to catch the man's attention again, but the incessant giggling did not stop. Iruka flinched away.

Briefly, the brunette wondered if he should call the retirement home and ask if they had recently had an Alzheimer escapee.

Iruka cocked his head to the left in order to peer at what was so funny about the newspaper, craning his neck a little in order to see through a head of messy white hair.

Iruka blinked once.

Twice.

"Y-You. . . You. . .That's. . . ." he stammered, chocolate eyes wide.

Suddenly, it was as if Iruka had flipped an invisible switch on the man. Like magic, the newspaper had vanished, revealing the very_, very_ pornographic magazine that the man had safely concealed inside. Iruka shuddered at the predatory gleam in the aging man's eyes, a leer that should _not_ have been possible curling his lips.

"Oh ho ho! So you recognize this magazine? You have good taste, my friend!" the man proclaimed in a very loud voice, wrapping a large, muscular arm around Iruka's shoulders as if they were best friends.

Iruka's tan face must have turned a few shades paler when the very explicit magazine was thrust into his face. A horrified squeak escaped his mouth, and he turned his face away, cheeks a very bright shade of red.

"Great, isn't it? Although, I was only reading it because it mentioned one of my novels! It's being made into a movie, you know!" the man declared boisterously, clapping a hand on Iruka's back so hard that the young man began to cough.

Bewildered and confused, he could only stand there, dumbfounded, soaking wet and nearly deafened by the man's unbearably loud voice.

Iruka flinched violently when the man suddenly got very close to Iruka's face, squinting his dark eyes at the young man's face. Nervously, Iruka squirmed as he tried desperately to get out of the mortifying situation, but a hand on his shoulder prevented him from running away.

"Hey, you're pretty cute for a guy! Have you ever considered being a muse?"

Iruka cocked his head, hopelessly confused.

"A. . . muse?"

"Yeah! I could really use some inspiration for my next book. I can see it now! The kind, innocent young heroine with a scar across her nose is suddenly thrown into chaos by a dangerous, devilishly handsome young man who fell in love with her at first sight! Oooooh I have to write this down!"

By passers could probably _hear_ the words echoing in Iruka's currently vacant skull. Blinking, he allowed the words to process slowly in his mind, syllable by syllable.

_. . . Heroine . . . scar. . . her nose._

_**Her**__ nose?_

"With sepia eyes hazy with lust and soft, golden skin shining with sweat, the man could not help but lick her—"

Iruka, unable to control his dangerously rising temper, tore the notepad and pencil from the man's grip and flung it as hard as he could into the wet street, grinning in evil satisfaction as a truck ran over the muddy pages. A horrified squeal emitted from the white-haired man as Iruka turned to deliver a glare that should have sent him straight to hell.

"_I have just had one of the __**shittiest**__ mornings of my life, and I am __**not **__going to stand there and allow you to __**castrate**__ my dignity as a man with your ridiculous smut. A __**man,**__ not a woman! All I wanted to know is if the __**god damn **__bus has already left or not!_"

The older man shrank back from the seething brunette, holding up his hands in submission. He'd learned after many, many years of chasing volatile women that it was always better to simply admit defeat in such situations, or have his lower regions in danger of spontaneous combustion.

With the smaller young man now hunching threateningly over the novelist, he had a clear view of a familiar ID tag pinned to the drenched, muddy shirt. The man's eyes suddenly flashed with recognition, and he suddenly felt the urge to laugh at the hilarity of the situation.

_Ah, so this is the kid Tsunade was talking about. Must be fate._

"Heh heh, are you by any chance headed towards Konoha High School?" the white haired man asked nervously.

Iruka, beyond the point of civil and rational thought, grabbed onto the man's shirt and pulled him to his face, scarred nose wrinkled in a snarl. The white-haired man could_ see _the borderline-psychotic light in the brown eyes, and had the feeling that he was in danger of being ruthlessly murdered within the next few seconds.

"_Has. The. Bus. Left_?" Iruka ground out, barely restraining himself from punching the older man in the face.

The white haired man blinked, and his brow furrowed in confusion. He replied slowly.

"This last bus has. . . the next one doesn't come for another hour."

Iruka blanched, and grabbed his wrist in order to peer at his watch.

"Oh, _shit!_ It's already 7:30!"

Realization suddenly dawned on the white-haired man, and his mouth turned upward in an amused smile.

"Umino-san, I think you might want to calm down and listen-"

"I don't have time to listen to you babble! I'm going to be late!"

With that, the frazzled, wet, and now severely worn out young man bolted from the shelter of the bus stop, and the older man shook his head, watching the young man try and fail to shield himself from the rain.

"Well. . . He probably isn't the only one who forgot to set their clocks back an hour."

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><p>Konoha Gakuen.<p>

A school that was known for having the best and brightest students. A school for the rich and upper class, children of business owners and doctors. But also a school that was known for being so eccentric, that new teachers quit within the first week simply because they _couldn't take it anymore_.

He's driven his fair share of teachers from the school, even though he had never spent a full class period actually inside the classroom. Never has he showed up to a single one of his classes on time, and no one really understood how he did it. After all, the school was gated, with guards and video cameras posted inside and around the school (the school had quite a few students who were the children of important people), meaning that it was nearly impossible to escape campus without someone knowing. A student being able to skip classes so frequently was unheard of.

The administrators had tried every means necessary to make him arrive to his classes on time, even going as far as to chip the back of his neck in order to track him.

After running around half of the city in search of the elusive boy, the staff had found the chip on the back of an enormous, very friendly mastiff that seemed adamant about licking the skin off of their faces.

After that, most people decided that it really wasn't worth it, but that didn't stop others from trying; hence why he was the bane of many teachers' existences.

What they hadn't discovered yet, was that he always arrived to school _early (_They might actually just die of shock if they were to ever find out_)_. Usually about an hour before most people even began to arrive, for no other reason other than that he was bored. He didn't typically sleep a lot at night due to the fact that he slept through much of the day.

However, today he actually arrived at the school an hour earlier than he usually did, which meant two hours before people began to arrive. He always forgot about daylight savings time.

It didn't really bother him that he was so early; all that meant was that he had more time to himself. So, he snuck into the building and spent an entire hour in the school's dojo.

Hot water rinsed sticky sweat from pale, flushed skin, dripping onto the tile floor. Tilting back his head, he allowed the water to wet his silver locks, flattening them against his head. He reached out behind the curtain to grab the hand towel he kept there when he showered, and wrapped it around the lower half of his face.

He turned off the faucet and stepped out of the shower, completely nude. Puddles formed around his feet as he walked to the sinks. He glanced at himself for a moment in the long row of mirrors that stretched across the wall, a tall, pallid, muscular form that stood out starkly against the dark tile of the communal bathroom. Snorting at the way his silver hair stuck to his face and neck, he shook his head like a dog, and instantly his hair was back to its natural, gravity-defying formation. Still dripping wet, he wrapped a towel around his waist.

This was how he liked to spend his mornings, alone in a nice, quiet place to practice his karate, and then left to shower in peace. No one to disrupt the tranquil state of his thoughts.

Goosebumps rose on his skin as he walked from the steamy bathroom, and his pace quickened a little in his eagerness to get out of the cool hallway and back into the warmer locker room, where his uniform sat.

A lazy eye closed idly as he hummed a sigh of content, pushing the door to the locker room open and walking through.

His morning went downwards after that.

Literally.

He felt his foot hook on something that had definitely _not _been there when he left the room earlier, and a startled yelp that wasn't his reached his ears. Looking down with a wide, dark eye, he realized that it wasn't hard tile rushing up to meet him, but the form of a person who was considerably smaller than he was. Utilizing all of his well-trained reflexes, he twisted to the side to avoid crushing whoever was now on the floor beneath him. He succeeded, but that resulting in him landing hard on his back; his wet body skidded a few feet until his head slammed into the lockers. The resounding bang ricocheted off the wall sand rattled inside his head, nearly drowning out the horrified cry of the other person in the room.

He could feel a groan sliding from his throat, the vibrations in his chest causing shoots of pain to travel down his sides and back. The lights were suddenly too bright, and he clenched his open eye shut. Too-loud footsteps approached him, the slight trembles wreaking havoc on his pounding head.

"Oh my god!" someone cried from above him.

A dark shadow blocked the offending light from his face, and for that he was grateful. It allowed him to crack open his right eye a little, but even with the welcomed shadow, the light sent jolts of pain through his temples. The whole world was fuzzy and spinning. He gritted his teeth, trying to focus his vision.

"Shit, are you okay?"

_I'd be better if you'd stop yelling_, he wanted to say, but he currently didn't have use of his vocal chords.

"Can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up? Can you move? God, _I am so sorry_!" the voice continued.

Now, he could just make out a blob that was shaped suspiciously like a person, which was jerking around in a way that suggested panic.

Again, he tried to tell the person to _shut up_ and failed.

"U-Um okay! An ambulance! I've got to call an ambulance!"

His brow furrowed now, and a growl threatened to escape from his throat.

An ambulance, coming and putting him into a neck brace and jabbing needles into his arm, then wheeling him away in a loud and unnecessarily eye-catching manner that would attract unwanted attention. He would never, ever be able to live it down. He would forever be remembered as '_the kid who tripped and had to go to the hospital'_.

_Hell no._

"Don't move! I'll be right ba—"

"No," he croaked, launching himself upward into a sitting position, grabbing what he assumed to be the person's arm, and yanking the person towards him until he could feel the person's breath on his face.

A wave of nausea rolled through his stomach, but he fought it down as he stared hard at whomever he had just grabbed, the image swimming back and forth. Taking a deep breath, he blinked several times, and with each flash of blackness, the image became clearer.

The first thing he noticed was brown.

Big, soft, chocolate brown eyes shone with both shock and panic, framed with dark lashes and set in a caramel-colored face. Dark, damp hair framed a heart-shaped face, a small, straight nose in the center. A thin, pale scar ran from one cheek bone to the other highlighted the most feminine features of the face, but also adding a touch of masculinity. _Cute_, came to mind, as strange as that was, but it was true. A pair of full, pink lips were parted slightly in surprise, warm, sweet smelling breath brushing across his pale face as the person shakily let out the breath they were holding.

It was a face that he'd never seen before, and a very young face at that.

_A new student._

"No," he said again, more slowly, "I'm alright."

The person's mouth opened a little wider, eyes widening impossibly further.

"B-But your head!" the person spluttered, and their face turned an interesting shade of pink, "And I _tripped _you! God, I'm so _sorry_!"

He blinked twice, the ache in his head dimming until it was much more bearable. He reached to rub the knot growing on the top of his silver head.

"Maa, I think I'll live," he said with a shrug, almost wincing at the twinge of pain in his back.

A long, awkward silence ensued, and he almost sighed. He liked quiet, but not this kind of quiet.

"Well, I'd say that this calls for an introduction," with an amused look in his open eye, he held out his hand despite the rather strange position, "I'm Kakashi Hatake."

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><p>It was official.<p>

The universe_ loathed _him.

All Iruka had wanted to do was dry his clothes in the dryer he had found in the locker room, and then go sleep the extra hour he had just discovered he had away. His stress level was through the roof, blood pressure so high he was sure his heart would explode soon, and _this was not helping_.

As soon as he saw the large mass of something obviously male flying over his body, he knew there was no hope of this day getting better. It was going straight to hell.

The moment that a deep, throaty groan of pain reached his ears, all rational thought flew from his mind as he became a quivering mess of humiliation and panic.

And now that it was affirmed that the man was alright and wasn't going to die within the next few minutes, Iruka actually _looked _at him, and his jaw probably dropped to the floor, as if everything else wasn't embarrassing enough.

He had broad, muscular shoulders and defined abdominal muscles that weren't huge, but obviously powerful. They rippled as he extended his hand, and anyone watching would have probably forgotten their own name at the sight. Shocking silver hair dripped with water, droplets sliding down the sides of his face and down his bare neck. Alabaster skin glimmered with dampness, and a towel precariously sat on narrow hips. What was probably most intriguing about him was the long, vertical scar that started just above his left eyebrow and disappeared beneath the towel on that covered the lower half of his face. That eye remained closed.

The person looked older than Iruka. Then again, that would be no surprise. This person had to be one of the teachers at the school. Why else would he be here so early?

Iruka wasn't sure how long he had stared, but a buzzing sound in his ear suddenly alerted him to the fact that he was being spoken to.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked stupidly.

The person in front of him raised a silver eyebrow.

"I said," he began slowly, "that I'm Kakashi Hatake."

Iruka could feel the blood rush his cheeks, and silently cursed the higher powers (again) for giving him such thin skin.

"Sorry. I'm Iruka Umino," he said quickly, grabbing the silver-haired male's hand with a little too much eagerness.

A lazy, dark eye looked the tan man over for a minute, and the eyebrow arched even higher. Iruka tried to keep himself from panicking again as his nervousness grew.

"Let me guess, you forgot about daylight savings time too?"

_Very eloquent_, Iruka thought scathingly to himself, mentally face palming, _You try to kill him, and then decide to make idle chit chat. I'm sure you've left a very good impression._

Kakashi nodded slowly, but didn't tear his gaze away from the flustered young man. Laughing anxiously, Iruka continued, though he was mentally aware that he was beginning to babble, which he tended to do when he was nervous.

"I guess I'm not the only one. To make things worse, I forgot my umbrella this morning."

A critical eye swept over Iruka's form, taking in the too-large, navy gym outfit that all students wore. Iruka flushed violently, realizing how ridiculous he must look to a teacher.

"I-I'm just borrowing this until my clothes are dry," he explained quickly.

Kakashi hummed an acknowledgment as he swiftly and gracefully rose to his feet. If Iruka hadn't been the perpetrator, he would have never guessed that the man had taken a nasty fall only minutes ago.

Iruka also rose to his feet (more like scrambled) and realized with a start that Kakashi towered over him. Iruka was a little above average male height, and even he felt very small beside the Hatake. The tall man didn't say anything as he made his way over to the other side of the locker room, leaving Iruka as if he hadn't even existed to begin with.

Iruka wasn't sure whether he wanted to yell at the man for being rude, or curl up and allow himself to be swallowed by a dark abyss to escape from the degradation.

Another long silenced ensued, and it was making Iruka very, very uneasy. He tried to hide it, seeing as the object of his unease was as cool as a cucumber, pulling on his white collar shirt and black slacks at what might have been a sluggish pace. Respectfully, Iruka turned away, but he was certain that he was being watched out of the corner of one, steely eye. Goosebumps rose on Iruka's tan skin.

Finally_, finally, _the drier let out a loud beep, and Iruka all but tore the clothing from the drier. He practically ran to the opposite end of the locker room, concealed behind a row of lockers, and stripped himself of the gym clothes. He threw on his now warm, dry clothing, although there were still faint brown splotches where the mud had seeped in. However, Iruka would be able to cover it with his jacket.

Fastening his dark green tie, not even bothering to pin on his ID in his haste, which sat in the pocket of his pants, the scarred young man walked briskly to the door. With a quick, timid goodbye to the silver-haired man, Iruka fled from the room. The moment he was outside the door, he sighed with great relief.

Kakashi cocked his head to the side at the brunette's odd behavior, but shrugged it off. He straightened his navy blue tie, and fastened the matching navy mask over his face, relishing in the feeling of protection it gave. Finally, he put on his navy headband, sliding it over his left eye, and his wardrobe was complete.

A lazy yawn escaped his lips, and briefly he thought that maybe he just wouldn't show up to first period at all and sleep through the whole thing.

Slowly, he made his way to the door of the locker room, already mapping out his course of action in evading the school faculty, when something on the floor caught his eye.

He picked up the small leather wallet off of the ground and opened it. Slender fingers slipped out a laminated card, flipping it over to reveal a now familiar tan face. Sighing, he tucked the driver's license in it's place and shoved wallet in his pocket.

He would find the new student later and give it back.

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><p>Note: Okay, so this is TOTALLY opposite from Breaking Mirrors. I am aware. . . I will STILL BE WRITING THAT STORY! Really, I'm just a hopeless Kakashi fangirl, so I enjoy writing anything with him in it. . .<p>

**Story Detail: This is my_ first ever _yaoi fic, so please be kind .. This chapter REFUSED to be a suitable length. It was either going to be short (yes, this is a short chapter for me), or so rediculously long that I would cry if I had to read it. So, hopefully it will get better, and all of my Yaoi-Loving friends will have some beautiful, beautiful Kakairu to feast your eyes upon *gets shot again***

Reviews= LOVE/ENCOURAGEMENT/BETTER WRITING

So please review?


	2. Meeting the Delinquents

Disclaimer: Yummy Yummy Kakairu! If only I owned Naruto *weeps*

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><p>Hey guys, sorry for the wait. I've been a little depressed lately.<p>

I know you guys really don't want to listen the rantings of a depressed fanfiction author. You don't have to read this. It's only to make me feel a bit better.

For the past year and a half, I have been working towards going to a charter school that focuses on math and science. Wanting to become a pediatric doctor, naturally I would want to go. Tirelessly, I spent my nights studying for tests for classes that were about two years above what most of my pers were doing, resulting in a very poor social life. I visited the school's campus multiple times, though I guess that was a stupid move on my part, seeing as it would only result in me becoming attached to the school.

I am part of a single-parent family where my mother works at night, leaving me to care for my little sister all week and unable to do many extracurricular. I had no control over that.

But I am taking AP classes while only a sophomore.

I am ranked number 8 in my class.

I am also a minority (though, by no means do I think that I am any more deserving of a place at the school than anyone else)

I have tried my absolute hardest to get into this school, lost a LOT of sleep over this school.

And I didn't get accepted, while a friend of mine, who had only just started showing interest in the school, got accepted. It's a real punch in the face, especially when she gushes about how she is SO excited to attend. I grin and congratulate her.

I haven't cried, though maybe I should. I don't think I can. I don't show a lot of emotion when I'm sad. Hopefully the reviews of this chapter will cheer me up.

I'm trying to keep my chin up, but lately things have been hard, and this was a major blow to my optimism.

For those who read this, thanks so much for showing a bit of interest in my life as a person and not an author.

Enjoy the story.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Two<strong>_

_Meeting the Delinquents_

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><p>Iruka tapped on his desk, anxiously glancing at the clock. He didn't really <em>need<em> to be in the classroom so early, but he wasn't confident enough in his navigation skills to wander around the humongous campus on his own.

He glanced around the classroom. It was rather large compared to the others, with about twenty desks lined up in rows and columns in the middle, but bordering all of the walls were counters and cupboards. There were three ovens on each wall of the room other than the one that had the black board on it. There was a closet in the back, full of whatever Iruka would need for his classes, and Iruka was shocked to discover that everything in the room was of the finest that money could buy.

Honestly, Iruka had never in his life seen such a nice classroom, or even such nice cooking equipment. He really felt out of place, and it was making him nervous.

Again, he undid his ponytail, and tied it up , just to pass the time. His scalp was starting to hurt from all of the pulling.

One minute left before his own personal hell would begin.

Iruka wasn't stupid. He knew what he was about to get.. Tsunade hadn't minced words when she had made her offer; she had been perfectly clear when she told Iruka how rough this job was going to be. He was to get the delinquent class, a class composed of the most trouble-making students in the school. Their felonious actions ranged widely, from simply rebuking a teacher to actually _throwing_ people out of windows.

The school was often unable to simply expel such students due to their powerful parents, so the delinquent classes were created as a way to detain them. Those classes had their own separate building in the school so they did not disrupt the other students, and the school constantly attempted to keep the delinquent students from falling behind in their studies.

Iruka would get the_ pleasure_ of taking on the worst of the school's delinquent classes, the senior class. A class that caused teachers to quit after a single day with their sanity barely intact, and Tsunade had told him bluntly that he was probably her only option left.

Not that he was really complaining. This job was a gift from the gods (even though they had been particularly loathsome towards him today), with a pay that had left Iruka gaping at the paper Tsunade had showed him. Were there better paying jobs out there? Of course, but the pay was certainly nothing to sniff at. And under Iruka's circumstances, he had no room to be picky. He needed this job very, very badly, and he was determined to keep it.

He had everything to lose.

Iruka took a deep, shaky breath, as he counted down.

Five, four, three, two-

Simultaneously, the earsplitting ring of the morning bell ripped through the air, and the door to the classroom slammed open so hard, that the windows rattled. Iruka jumped, eyes wide as he stared at the door, a deep crack running down the middle of the wood. Slowly, the door began to fall off of its hinges, clinging for dear life to the door frame.

An audible creek could be heard from Iruka's neck as he turned to look at just who had seen it fit to desecrate the defenseless door.

Pale brown eyes glinted with something purely malicious, a coy grin slipping onto an attractive, yet chillingly sadistic face. Purple hair tied in a messy knot swished slightly as the head of a young woman tilted, scrutinizing the young man in the room.

"Well, what do we have here? Fresh meat?" she purred from the doorway, a pale pink tongue swiping over smirking lips in a way that sent chills down Iruka's spine.

Iruka tried to smile as the purple-haired student approached him with a strong, confident stride, her very short skirt (Iruka was sure that the uniforms were not meant to be so) bouncing up and down. Her white-collared shirt was unbuttoned shamelessly low, and the shorter height of the girl made it that much more apparent. Iruka glanced down at the loud thumping she made as she walked, and his jaw went slack when he saw the black combat boots, dripping with rainwater, donning her feet.

"Not very tough looking, though. You'd think that bitch Tsunade would actually get someone with some back-bone after the last one," she said in near disappointment, a slight pout on her face.

"Have to say, though, you're easier on the eyes than the last guy," she said, and Iruka wanted to die of mortification.

"Anko, don't play with your food," a smooth voice said from the doorway, and Iruka was thankful for someone else to look at.

This student, at least, seemed a bit more normal. He had chestnut brown hair that reached his collar bones and dark hazel eyes. His slouched posture, hands in his pockets, suggested that he was a calm, laidback person. Between his teeth, he flicked what looked like a long sewing needle back and forth.

"Don't worry, Genma. I'll still have room for dessert," Anko said whilst directing a leer towards the attractive young man.

Genma didn't spare Iruka a glance as he snorted and walked to the back of the classroom, dropping gracefully into a desk by the window. The needle moved almost rhythmically between his teeth as he shot back.

"I don't doubt it. Your mouth is good for only one thing anyway," Genma said in a teasing voice.

At this, the purple-haired harpy glowered, though a good-natured glint could be seen in her brown eyes.

"Oh shut up, asshole. I'm a _good _girl," she said, leaving Iruka's personal space bubble and walking to the middle portion of the classroom.

Propping her dirty boots on the top of her desk (Thank God she was wearing shorts underneath her skirt), she began to file her nails with a metal filer that looked suspiciously sharp.

Somehow, Iruka sincerely doubted her claim.

Iruka was about to open his mouth, perhaps to admonish Anko about putting her feet on the desk, though he wasn't entirely sure if anything coherent was going to come out at the moment, when a person suddenly appeared to his right. The poor young man jumped.

"I think that you're seriously misunderstanding the definition of 'good', Anko."

Iruka whipped his head around as another person suddenly materialized to his left, clutching the fabric over his chest in a futile attempt to quell his now rapidly beating heart.

"Although, I suppose that depends on who you're talking to."

"The teachers."

"Or _Ibiki_."

Suddenly, a very sharp nail file sailed through the air dangerously close to Iruka's left ear; he stared at it with wide eyes as it embedded itself in the wall behind him.

Anko's eyes glittered threateningly at the two young men standing on either side of Iruka, mischievous grins on their faces.

"Kotetsu, why don't you and Izumo find a nice closet to screw in?" she said darkly, "With luck, maybe it'll lock from the inside."

The one on Iruka's left's smirk widened. He had soot-colored hair that spiked in every direction. Dark eyes gleamed with shrewdness that Iruka was sure would keep him on his toes. The bandage that lay across the young man's nose stretched along with his facial muscles as the smile curled his lips.

"That's not a bad idea. It would give Izumo and I some time _alone_."

The other young man to Iruka's left's cheeks flushed slightly. This one had dark brown hair that reached just past his ears, a long side bang covering his right eye. He walked over to punch Kotetsu hard in the arm.

"You're such an idiot," he hissed.

"Ah, but I'm _your_ idiot."

When Kotetsu tried to lean in and kiss Izumo, he quickly found himself flat on the floor with a bloody nose. Izumo stalked to the far end of the room and sat angrily in a chair. Kotetsu sent him a pleading look, but the seething brunette glared at him viciously, daring him to come closer.

"Aw, but '_Zumoooo_!"

Iruka blinked, his mouth hinging and unhinging as he tried to come up with something, _anything _to say. But he was caught between screaming in horror and babbling senselessly, and he was pretty sure that neither would be very impressive.

Iruka glanced at the clock. Two minutes until the late bell, and then he would begin class. He would let the students have their social time. After all, he remembered how much he hated tyrannous teachers who had their students in chains.

Iruka wouldn't need to be so strict. With kindness and a good attitude, he would easily obtain the respect of his students.

* * *

><p>About a half-hour later, it was obvious that Iruka had absolutely no idea what he was doing.<p>

The incessant talking continued, reaching a louder and louder volume until Iruka was sure half of the campus could hear it. Anko was half-hanging out of the window, laughing raucously at something that Kurenai, who was painting her fingernails purple, said and waving her dango stick around wildly. Kotetsu had pushed two desks together and was splayed out across them, kicking off his shoes and wiggling his toes in Izumo's face, who looked like he was about three seconds from emptying the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Across the room, Hana Inuzuka's -a girl with long brown hair and a distinctly dog-like disposition- nose curled in disgust at the smell of Kotetsu's feet. Hayate—A boys so pale and sickly that Iruka was sure that he should be worried- was busy hacking up his lungs as Gai—Iruka barely noticed that he wearing a bright green version of the gym uniform once he saw his eyebrows, and did even less when he began to _speak_-proceeded to shout at Hayate in an irrationally loud voice about something involving the Springtime of Youth. Genma and Raido, a senior with a large scar on the left side of his face, were talking about something infinitely inappropriate for school. Finally, Asuma—an extremely tall, tan senior with a full beard who smelled distinctly of tobacco-was sitting in the back, feet on his desk and snoring so loudly that it almost drowned out everything else.

Iruka tried to get the rowdy group's attention again, clearing his throat even louder than his past few attempts.

"Excuse me. . ."

And once again his words were lost as Anko threw her head back and loud out a loud peal of laughter. Asuma stirred in his chair, and the burly teenager cracked his dark eyes open.

"Will you shut the hell up?" he groaned, brow furrowing.

The purple-haired young woman snorted, and quickly flipped Azuma the bird while taking another bite of her dango.

Iruka took a deep breath and tried _again_.

"I'd like to introduce mysel—"

Hayate chose that moment to begin another bout of coughing, his whole body shaking. A cry from Gai drowned that out.

"Oh Hayate! I grieve at your loss of Youthful Health! Do not allow Death to overtake the Blooming Lotus Blossom of Youth within you!"

"I *cough* am not *cough cough* dying *cough* you IDIOT *cough*"

Asuma groaned even louder.

Iruka could feel his blood pressure rising, his nervousness rapidly being replaced with irritation. How dare these seniors, openly disregard a person of higher authority, someone older than them, especially a person who chose the low paying job of a teacher for their sake?

Did they feel that Iruka wasn't worth their time because he wasn't rich, like them? Because he wasn't a spoiled-rotten little punk that cared about nothing but himself?

Iruka clenched his jaw, his fingers curling into fists as rage rose like bile in his throat.

He had almost forgotten just _why _he couldn't stand rich people.

Brown eyes watched with growing fury as Anko nearly fell out of the window. She caught herself, but her leg had shot out in order to adjust her weight, and struck the nail polish bottle on Kurenai's desk. It flew several feet and the contents spilled onto Hana's foot and Genma's shirt. The Inuzuka turned to snarl at Anko for ruining her clothing while Genma raised his needle threateningly. Raido grabbed onto his arm, trying to get him to stop whatever he was thinking of doing. At this point, Hayate began wheezing at the nail polish fumes in the air, and Kotetsu was laughing at the entire spectacle. Izumo glared at him and promptly shoved the spiky-haired young man off of the two desks holding him up, but the brunette was also fighting a laugh. Asuma had finally given up on sleep, and sat up, grumbling what might have been profanities under his breath. He took out something from one pocket, and grabbed something else out of the other, and Iruka did a double take when he realized that it was a cigarette and lighter.

"Will you all _please- " _Iruka began in a dangerously low voice.

"You are NOT lighting that in here," Hana growled, "That stuff smells like shit!"

"No more than your dogs do," the tanned senior grumbled back, still slightly sleepy, half oblivious to the murderous glare that Hana was shooting him.

"Hayate! If you die, I will use all of my Powers of Youth to save you!"

"*Cough* *Hack*"

"'Zumooooo! That hurt! Kiss it better? Or possibly_ lick_?"

". . . " _**Smack**_**.**

"Genma, touch me with that needle and I'll shove it up your penis."

"Try it, and I'll pierce your tits."

Iruka's fingers began digging into the wooden desk. For whatever reason, he looked at the clock. Three quarters of the class period was gone, and he hadn't even gotten to introduce himself. A resounding crash in the room brought his gaze back to the hectic classroom, and he saw Asuma rise to his feet angrily, towering over a very feral looking Hana who was holding his cigarette between her fingers. Kotetsu was trying to grope Izumo, who was trying to struggle like he _didn't_ enjoy it. Gai pounded on Hayate's back, trying to stop the coughing whilst making it worse. All this was going on as Anko kicked another desk over while glaring at Genma in a way that promised a painful death. Genma's needle was gone, and so was Anko's dango, leaving Iruka to wonder what Genma had done to so royally piss off the young purple haired woman. She began yelling at the leering Genma, adding to the already window-rattling volume of the room as Raido was desperately trying to stop the confrontation. The entire room was roaring with the commotion and shouting.

"Asshole, you owe me dango!"

"And you owe me a new shirt!"

"Give me back my cigarette, _now._"

"Not happening."

"Ugh, my nail polish!"

"Hayattteeeeeee! LIVE!"

"*Cough**Hack*!"

"Genma, Anko! Please stop it _right now_!"

"Oh, stop crying, Kotetsu! I didn't hit you that hard!"

"But _'Zuuuuuuuummmmooooooooo_!"

"**WILL YOU ALL **_**SHUT UP**__**?**__" _

The roar overpowered all of the noise in the room, and perhaps the entire city. The windows shook so much that they almost shattered, and classrooms all over the campus flinched and looked to the heavens as if they expected it to be God that had spoken.

Needless to say, the entire class was shocked into silence, all movement ceased. Many were frozen in awkward positions, but everyone was looking to the front of the room, mouths either parted slightly or in danger of falling to the floor.

Iruka's shoulders were heaving and his body trembled violently in unadulterated rage. Brown eyes were sparkling with malice and his face was red. He suddenly looked much bigger, and very, very threatening.

"_You bunch of uncouth, unappreciative __**idiots**__! I have half a mind to kick every single one of you to __**Mars **__and save Earth from your __**audacious **__behavior! I may be your teacher, but I am also a __**human being**__ who deserves equality like the rest of you. Like a human, I also I have __**limits**__, and I'm going to warn you of something __**right **__now. If you want to live long enough to graduate, you will all __**sit **__down, __**shut**__ up, and you __**Will. Not. Push. Me**__._"

The students numbly did as they were told, still staring at their new and livid teacher with wide eyes.

Iruka's anger had no chance to simmer down even a degree before the still-damaged door creaked open. A few footsteps were heard in the still-silent room.

"Yo," whoever the person was said.

Iruka didn't know what it was about the persons tone that bothered him, but he blamed it on the anger still coursing through his veins. He rounded on the poor, unsuspecting student, body still shaking in fury.

"YOU ARE _LATE!_ SIT DOWN!" he yelled.

And then he froze.

The door slowly clicked shut, and the silence was so loud that Iruka couldn't hear his own heart beating. Or had his heart stopped? He wouldn't be too apposed if he suddenly went into cardiac arrest and died right then, because he kind of wanted to at the moment.

"Well. . . I see that we have a new teacher," the person said slowly, staring at Iruka with his dark eyes.

"Y-Yes. . . " Iruka said, and he almost slapped himself at his stupidity.

"Nice to see you again. . . Umino-_sensei_," Kakashi said, his tone was slightly teasing as one steel-grey eye glanced around the room.

_He was able to subdue everyone so quickly_, the silver-haired senior thought, mildly impressed.

Now that he looked, Kakashi wondered how he hadn't seen the differences between the student uniform and Iruka's teacher uniform. He supposed it was because he hadn't been wearing the jacket that went with it.

Iruka blinked at the fact that the young man, who Iruka had thought to be much older than he apparently was, another _teacher_ in fact, wore a band of navy cloth that covered his scarred eye.

A question was burning in the air, but everyone in the classroom was half-afraid of opening their mouths for fear of _Demon Teacher From Hell_ returning.

"It's good to see that you've. . . recovered, Hatake-san. Now, would you please have a seat?" Iruka said, using his best teacher voice. He had, after all, been working on it ever since he had found out about this job.

He couldn't let the students see his discomfort, or else they might spiral out of control again.

The tall, silver-haired young man slowly made his way to an empty desk in the second row, though his gaze never tore from Iruka for more than a second. Iruka tried to ignore it and forced a smile onto his tan face.

"Okay, now if you can all behave for the remaining ten minutes we have of this class period, I would like to end today's class on at least a _semi-good _note," he said in a much softer, but not weak, voice.

Chocolate brown eyes scanned the classroom of both distraught and slightly surprised faces as Iruka slowly sat in the chair behind his desk.

"I would like to get to know you all a little, so can I have a volunteer for an introduction?"

Dead silence, but Iruka had kind of expected that after his outburst. He had, one more occasions than he was willing to admit, made grown men cry after one of his tongue lashings.

He cleared his throat.

"Okay then, I'll go first. My name is Iruka Umino, and I will be both your Home Economics teacher and your Health and Nutrition teacher, because the school is understaffed," _and because no one is willing to teach the delinquent class_, "I like to cook and swim, and I dislike arrogance and really loud environments," Iruka thought of what to add, "Oh! My hobbies include taking walks and helping out at the local orphanage, although I once in awhile indulge myself with a few pranks," Iruka finished with a sheepish smile, rubbing the scar across his face out of habit.

"Now, who's next?" he asked, the smile now a lot wider.

Incredulous looks were passed between the students, and suddenly Iruka understood why teachers loved to do things like this. It was too much fun.

"Okay, then. How about you first. . . Um, Asuma-san right?"

All eyes turned to the big, broad-shouldered young man in the back. He frowned, looking a little uncomfortable, before clearing his throat.

"Um. . . My name is Asuma Sarutobi. I. . . like sleeping and smoking I guess. I dislike loudness and people who are too uptight. . . My hobbies. . . I like to practice Kendo and Karate," he finished with a rather awkward glance at everyone else.

Iruka nodded happily, infinitely pleased that he was at least getting somewhere.

"That was good. Next? How about Anko-san?"

So, the introductions continued, and it wasn't long before the students actually began enjoying the experience, cracking jokes at one another while being careful to not provoke their volatile new teacher. Iruka felt himself actually warming up to the class, though he was sure that it wouldn't last forever, as he listened to how very different each of them was from one another.

Finally, however, there was only one person to introduce themselves, and Iruka felt embarrassed all over again. How hadn't he realized beforehand that Kakashi was a student and not a teacher? Well, he doesn't exactly look like he was any younger than twenty. . . And how did he even get into the building so early anyway? Only teachers were supposed to be able to access the building at any time.

"My name is Kakashi Hatake," he said in his deeper, drawling voice, "I have no intention of telling you my likes and dislikes. . . I have a few hobbies. . ."

Iruka stared at his silver-haired student. His right eye might have twitched a little bit.

A few of the students braced themselves for another outburst, but the loud, piercing shriek of the bell announced that it was time for Iruka to switch gears.

He let out a slow, calming breath, determined not to let Kakashi snuff his brightening mood. He rose to his feet, a grin on his face.

"Okay, well that was the bell. Health and Nutrition is over. Welcome to Home Economics. Today, we'll be making dango."

That elicited a few chuckles at the slight weirdness of the class transition, while Anko let out an elated whoop. Iruka smiled, pleased that he was at least in someone's good graces.

"If we could please move the desks and chairs closer to the center of the room?"

The students got busy, shoving the chairs and desks not very gently to the center of the room. Genma kicked his, nearly hitting Kotetsu. As a result, he was berated by Izumo, but he couldn't have cared less. Anko was bouncing about the room in excitement, her chest bouncing in a way that was very distracting to Gai. Hayate was _still _coughing, and Iruka reminded himself to give the poor young man a mask in order to prevent the spread of disease.

Suddenly, Iruka found himself looking into a single eye that stared at him in such a way that made a shiver shoot down his spine. Time seemed to freeze in place.

"K-Kakashi-san? Is there something you want?" he asked warily, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Hm. . . I was just thinking that you look young for a teacher," the silver-haired senior said thoughtfully, stepping towards him.

Iruka recoiled involuntarily, staring up at the taller male. He felt the blood drain from his face.

"Yes, well, this is my first year teaching," Iruka said in a tight, controlled voice.

Kakashi's visible eye gleamed secretively.

"Yes, I bet it is," he drawled before receding back to the group of chattering teenagers.

When Iruka had finally remembered to breathe again, he looked back at his students and discovered that the silver-haired senior had disappeared.

* * *

><p>Internally, Iruka was panicking.<p>

Externally, well, he wasn't much better

School was over, and yet the young man found himself still rooted to his spot in the teachers' lounge, unable to move. A stack of finished lesson plans sat on the table in front of him, finished due to the fact that he only had two classes per day - each consisting of the delinquent group—and had plenty of free time. Thankfully, his wing of the building was very vacant during the last half of the day, allowing him to break down in piece.

A weary and frustrated sigh escaped his lips as he buried his face in his hands, tugging on his dark hair as he replayed a certain silver-haired student's words in his head again and again.

"_Yes, I bet it is."_

What exactly had he meant by that?

Another wave of dread pulsated through his body as he considered the possibility that Kakashi had discovered what he so desperately wanted to hide.

"This is bullshit," he hissed under his breath, "It's only been the _first day_. How could I have messed this up so awfully _already_?"

_You know, aside from nearly killing him this morning, _he thought to himself scathingly.

Maybe, he considered, the way Kakashi had spoken to him was because of what happened that morning and nothing else. He could just be overreacting due to paranoia.

_I need to calm down. Everything is stressful enough without me getting freaked out over nothing,_ he told himself, shaking himself out of his fearful state.

Brushing back the hair that had fallen loose from his ponytail, Iruka frowned at himself before pushing back his chair to stand up and gather his things. He had wallowed in his own self pity long enough; he had to get home. He exited the teacher's lounge and entered the vacant hallway, pausing in his walking for a moment only to listen and be sure that there was no one around. He wasn't sure he could keep up his teacher façade at that moment.

Iruka made his way down the maze of hallways, keeping a careful note of which turns he made in case he became lost. Was it just him, or did the hallway get longer during the school day?

The tanned young man rounded a corner, when something caught his eye. A vending machine stood, quite blatantly, in the large, grandiose corridor. Although, Iruka supposed that even rich people liked to indulge in junk food once in awhile. Now, Iruka was _sure_ that he hadn't seen a vending on the way to his classroom.

He was definitely very, very lost, as if his day hadn't gone poorly enough.

With a long, frustrated groan of "Why, _why?_" Iruka sunk to the floor, hugging his suitcase between his knees and chest. He then proceeded to none too gently slam his forehead onto the smooth, hard surface of the suitcase. With luck, he would simply fall into a head-trauma-induced coma and sleep the rest of his life away.

Then, in the midst of his rapidly disintegrating will to go on, Iruka's stomach let out a loud growl, and Iruka remembered that he hadn't eaten any lunch because he had been too afraid to search for the cafeteria.

He decided that he might as well spend that dollar that had been floating around in his wallet, and that maybe a Twix bar would brighten his day at least a little bit. He rose to his feet and reached into his back pocket to grab his wallet.

Iruka frowned when he met empty space there, so reached into the other pocket, but found no luck. Alarm shot through his system as he proceeded to pat himself down rapidly, praying that his elusive wallet was hiding somewhere on his person. He searched through his suitcase and coat pockets, but it wasn't there either.

Did he leave it in the classroom? He was sure that he had made sure to not leave anything behind. The teachers' lounge? No, he had glanced back to make sure there was nothing there of his when he left, too.

Iruka lout out a frustrated growl, kicking the vending machine and then ignoring the resulting pain in his foot, muttering profanities under his breath.

_Because, God, I haven't suffered enough already,_ he thought cynically, looking skywards as his lips curled back in a silent snarl,_ And I suppose the reason you don't just strike me down now is because this is all too amusing for you, right? Well, far be it from me to deny you your amusement._

"Such a scary face_, _Umino_-sensei_."

"Son of a-!" Iruka yelped, jumping a few feet in the air in fright before whirling around to meet a now terribly familiar steely eye.

Iruka's stomach dropped with dread while his heart beat wildly in his chest. Iruka could feel the blush beginning at his neck before stretching to cover the lower half of his face and his chest.

"K-Kakashi! What are you still doing here?" he asked, forcing himself to keep his voice steady as his stomach continued to tie itself into some very impressive knots.

The tall, silver-haired young man, hands shoved in his pockets, looked down at him with chronic impassiveness, though Iruka had the distinct impression that he was being assessed.

"Studying," Kakashi lied easily, and it would have sounded believable if the senior's eyes didn't look so predatory.

Gulping uneasily, Iruka tried to make space between him and his student, but the soda machine had all too quickly pressed up against his back, leaving him trapped in very close proximity with Kakashi. Iruka gave his new student a strained smile.

"That's good to hear. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get home. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening!" Iruka said a little too quickly, trying to step to the side and make a hasty retreat.

A hand slammed against the soda machine and an arm stretched in front of the tan young man, blocking his exit. Iruka let out a startled gasp at the sudden bang that echoed down the vacant hallways, and looked up with anxious brown eyes at his student. Kakashi's one-eyed gaze was narrowed and Iruka shuddered at the hardness of the dark grey eye.

"Kakashi-san?" Iruka asked sharply, his voice a slightly higher pitch than usual.

"Ne, _sensei_, you seem nervous around me," came the now low-toned voice, sending shivers down the teacher's spine, "Why is that?"

"H-Hatake-san, l-let me go now!" Iruka demanded, the heat rising to his face as he became both flustered and angry.

"You don't sound very confident in that order, _sensei,_" said the voice, now very close to his face. Iruka could feel warm breath ghosting across the scar on the bridge his nose.

Iruka turned his head away, hands shaking at his sides.

Panic and confusion edged its way into his system as he tried to react to what was happening to him. How on earth was a teacher _supposed _to react in such a situation? Swallowing hard, Iruka forced himself to stay calm.

"I mean it, Hatake," Iruka tried to growl threateningly, "If you don't let me go right now, then I'll—" Iruka's harsh voice cut off with a sharp gasp as the hot breath caressed his earlobe and tickled down his neck.

Kakashi was so close to him now that Iruka could feel the other's heat nearly envelope his body, so warm that it was almost suffocating. The faint red glow of the soda machine reflected in the senior's smoky eye as it stared into one his chocolate brown ones.

"I'll let you go, but first you're going to have to answer a question of mine," Kakashi continued in that low, almost rumbling voice that vibrated against his ear.

Mortified, Iruka pressed himself harder against the soda machine in a desperate attempt to create distance between him and Kakashi, his body tense and mind torn between hitting the student and outright panicking. Why was Kakashi doing this?

"I noticed that you were searching for something earlier," Kakashi began in a nonchalant tone, resting most of his weight on the two outstretched arms that trapped Iruka where he stood.

Iruka's face twisted in confusion and flustered frustration.

"What do you mean?" he spat out, becoming more than a little upset with the current situation.

Kakashi's visible eye narrowed in both scrutiny and amusement as the senior's right hand slowly reached back and dug into his back pocket before withdrawing a small, black, rectangular-shaped item.

"Is this, by any chance, what you were looking for?" he asked Iruka innocently, holding up the wallet for Iruka to see.

Iruka's eyes widened, and his jaw went slack while his body went rigid.

"H-How. . . W-When?" he managed to stammer out.

Iruka wasn't sure, but he was almost certain that Kakashi's lips curled upward slyly beneath his mask, and little warning bells went off in Iruka's head.

"I found it after our little run-in this morning. I was planning to give it back to you."

Iruka shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the arm still blocking his left side. If Iruka tried to make a break for his now unblocked right side, he got the feeling that he would end up in an even more uncomfortable position. If all Kakashi really wanted to do was return the wallet, then he wouldn't have trapped him like this.

"Well. . . thank you, Kakashi-san," the teacher said cautiously, reaching towards the wallet only to have it yanked away. Iruka grimaced.

"Ah, ah ah, I said I was _planning_ on giving it to you, but you see, then I found something very . . . _interesting_ about you Iruka, and it piqued my curiosity," Kakashi said, the sly smirk only growling in length from beneath his mask and Iruka shuddered in anxiety.

Kakashi flipped open the wallet with one hand and showed Iruka the driver's license inside, featuring a tan, brightly smiling young man with a distinctive scar across his nose in the upper left corner.

It felt as if a cold stone had been dropped in Iruka's stomach and all of the air had been punched from his lungs. His body was frozen, eyes wide with shock, as his skin paled a few shades.

Kakashi spoke in an even lower voice than before, pressing his masked lips right against the shell of Iruka's ear as he whispered.

"Would you care to explain, _sensei,_ why your driver's license says that you're only seventeen?"

* * *

><p>(AN): Again, thanks to those of you who read my little rant up there. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please, review, and tell me anything you find confusing. Sometimes, the confusion is on purpose, but other times it's just because of my own stupidity. A big thanks to all of the reviewers of the last chapter! You caught things that I didn't while proofreading.

**Please Review! I'm still very new to writing shounen-ai/yaoi!**


	3. City of Night

Disclaimer: You see, in life there are two types of people. Those who own, and those who can only dream. Sadly, I am of the latter group.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Three<br>**_

_City of Night_

* * *

><p>"Would you care to explain, <em>sensei,<em> why your driver's license says that you are only seventeen?"

Kakashi's voice had changed into a serious tone with an edge of danger to it that had Iruka's mind reeling. His heart beat wildly in his chest as he desperately tried to come up with a convincing lie. Unfortunately, lying had never been a particularly strong point of his and he knew that nothing short of a miracle would be able to save him at this point. None the less, Iruka raised an eyebrow as if the other young man was out of his mind.

"That's not _my_ driver's license, Hatake-san. It is my younger brother's and I'd appreciate it if you gave it back to me," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, trying to sound sure and confident even though he felt like he was about ready to die.

He could feel his fingers trembling slightly as he held out his hand, asking for Kakashi to return the license and praying a little hopelessly that his lie would work.

The silver-haired senior made an amused humming sound in his throat, and Iruka thought that maybe he was smirking, but he couldn't be entirely sure with the mask.

"Nice try, but you told me what your full name was this morning. Don't think that I've forgotten," he replied smoothly, eye curved upward in false cheerfulness that began to irritate the teacher, "And I doubt that your parents gave both of their children the same name."

Iruka snatched his hand back in alarm and placed it firmly on his side to keep his hands from clenching.

"I think that the hit to your head earlier is making you paranoid. You should get that checked out," Iruka said calmly, though it was followed by a loud swallow as his shoulders tensed.

Kakashi's visible eye rolled to the ceiling before falling back down to Iruka's overly-calm face.

"You're going to have to do better than that," he drawled, shifting slightly so that he was even closer to the brunette, a grey eye penetrating Iruka's browns, "That's two attempts to dissuade me. Would you like to try for a third?"

There was a long silence. Iruka attempted to come up with another, more legitimate excuse, but realized that it was a pointless way to use his energy.

Kakashi was very perceptive. He watched as the young teacher's shoulders sagged impossibly low with weariness and the hair that had sneaked out of his ponytail fell into his lowered eyes.

"Can't you just let this go?" Iruka asked in a tight, controlled voice.

_Or maybe I could trip you again and this time you could fall into a coma_?

Kakashi actually had the decency to look like he was contemplating. For half of a second.

"Hm, nope."

Iruka clenched his teeth so hard that he was almost afraid that they would crack, feeling the vein in his temple begin to throb painfully as the stress from his hectic day rose to an unbearable extent.

"You can't tell anyone!" he blurted out, brown eyes snapping up to glare at the attractive silver-haired student.

If Kakashi had been affected in any way by the threatening look, he certainly didn't show it. Instead, he now seemed completely interested in what Iruka was saying, rather than the chronic impassiveness he usually displayed.

"And why is that?" he questioned with obviously fake innocence.

"Because I'll_ lose_ my job," Iruka said with painfully strained patience and Kakashi's posture shifted again as he gave a curt chuckle.

Iruka watched in exasperation as Kakashi's mood seemingly did another one-eighty, and now he looked at Iruka with a darker expression in his visible eye.

"I don't see why that should concern me. You wouldn't be the first teacher that I've gotten rid of," he said in a low voice.

The young teacher felt fear jump in his throat as he wondered momentarily just how Kakashi had _gotten rid _of people in the past_, _but then shook his head at the ridiculous thought. The youth may come from a very wealthy family, but this wasn't a damn _yakuza_ movie, for crying out loud! Kakashi was only trying to make him nervous. Granted, it was working marvelously, but there was no way Iruka would allow Kakashi to see how desperately afraid he was at the moment.

The young teacher curled his fingers so tightly that they turned white and his nails dug into the skin of his palms.

"You don't understand. I _need_ this job," Iruka stressed, trying very hard not to succumb to begging, but he would if he had to, no matter how hard the blow to his pride would be.

"I'm sure you do," Kakashi said cryptically, tone mocking.

Iruka's temper flared violently; he'd always hated being talked down to.

"What?" he spat.

The silver-haired student's lazy grey eye narrowed with dark mirth, his tall frame seeming to grow even taller with the dark aura oozing from his pores.

"I'm sure you _need_ to make connections with the students for money or to connect with their parents for splendor. To climb up the social latter and do anything to get to the top," he said with his calm, analytic voice, "You're no different than the rest. Taking advantage of ignorant, trusting teenagers like the trash you are."

Iruka's brown eyes widened in surprise at the scathing accusation before quickly snapping to life again, blazing with a deep fury. The way Kakashi looked at Iruka with such loathing, like he was the filthiest scum of the earth, was far more than Iruka could bear to take lying down. How _dare_ he assume that Iruka was such a vile, low-life piece of trash without even knowing his situation?What a pompous, self-righteous bastard!

The teacher drew himself up as tall as he could, getting so close to Kakashi's face that their noses were only a millimeter away from touching.

"Listen here, _Hatake-san_. You don't know _anything_ about me. You have _no right_ to judge me like that, so I suggest you keep quiet about things you know nothing about," he hissed, briefly weighing the option of punching the infuriating senior in his masked face.

Kakashi didn't so much as flinch away from Iruka's closeness, but instead pushed himself impossibly closer so that their chests were touching. The young teacher stopped breathing, immensely uncomfortable with the position, though his eyes were still narrowed in outrage.

"If I am judging you wrongly, then explain to me the reason _why_ you're here?" he said quietly, though a hidden threat prowled under his honeyed voice.

Iruka's scowl deepened as a warning growl ripped from his throat, like a cornered animal. He could feel the bile rise in his throat in anger.

"I do not have to explain myself to_ you_!" he replied, trying to physically burn Kakashi with his glare, "My reasons are none of your concern."

Beneath the mask, Iruka could see the clenching of the other young man's jaw, and for a moment, he was afraid that he'd really gotten the senior angry.

Kakashi stared at him for a long, long moment. Iruka met his eyes unflinchingly, despite the fact that his stomach was flopping around like a fish out of water. He was sure that he was setting himself up for a heated argument, at least that's what most people ended up doing in such a situation (that is, if people typically found themselves in such a predicament, which they can thank their lucky stars that they don't), but Kakashi was something of an enigma.

Instead of saying anything, he dropped his hands from either side of Iruka's head, and took two large steps backwards. Iruka was so startled by this development that his deeply furrowed eyebrows nearly shot to his hairline.

"You're right. Your problems are not my concern," Kakashi said nonchalantly, shoving one of his hands in his pocket and shrugging a shoulder.

Iruka's eyes narrowed warily again at the sudden change in mood. He would not be so foolish as to believe that the young man would suddenly have a change of heart. Brown eyes watched the movement of his driver's license still grasped tauntingly in those long fingers, being flipped and turned around as if it were Kakashi's new favorite play thing.

"But, I wonder how concerned the parents of the students will be when they find out their kids are being taught by someone the same age as they are? _Younger_, even?"

Iruka felt his lips twitch, but he fought back the snarl that wanted to erupt from his throat as his heartbeat sped up anxiously.

"You wouldn't."

Kakashi raised a silver eyebrow at him.

"You obviously don't know me very well, _sensei_."

As Kakashi flipped his driver's license again, Iruka felt a stone drop in his stomach.

If Kakashi told even one of the parents of his age, he would be fired for certain! No, worse, he would be completely _fucked_, more so than he already was. The thought of a horde of wealthy, powerful adults who collectively owned or managed a large portion of the _entire world's_ industries would not bode well for any of his hopes at a decent future for himself or his little brother.

Iruka felt his throat tighten as he thought of everything that he would lose, everything that would slip from his fingers like melting ice.

"H-Hatake-san. . . _please,_" Iruka said in a quiet, defeated voice.

The driver's license stopped flipping, held motionless in the air as the visible grey eye stared down at the smaller male in deep contemplation.

A large part of Kakashi was telling him to not be fooled by the seemingly guiltless face. He was far too experienced, even at his young age, to be deceived by innocent-looking eyes and flushed cheeks. In the world of wealth, power, and greed, people learned to use their looks against their enemies from the moment they learned to crawl. Kakashi was no exception, but he in turn had also learned to never trust a person based on how they appeared.

But, something about the way the other young man had pleaded with him, big chocolate eyes bright with sincerity and near desperation, made his usually unshakable resolve falter. The tan face had darkened with chagrin, the scar whitening in contrast while the anxious eyes began flicking to the ground like a skittish colt, hidden slightly by dark lashes. The lean frame twitched as if fighting the urge to flee, but was planted firmly in place while white-knuckled fists strained.

There was genuine fear in Iruka's expression, but it was a different kind of fear that held nothing of the guilty edge of being caught red-handed which Kakashi had expected. It was a heart-wrenching trepidation that one could imagine seeing in someone who was about to lose something precious.

Kakashi was far too intelligent to be fooled by such a charade, though. There was every possibility that Iruka was simply an outstanding actor.

And yet. . .

A few seconds ticked by as Kakashi openly assessed the smaller male in front of him, who looked about ready to either burst into frustrated tears, start spitting profanities in Kakashi's face, or throw up. Perhaps all three.

Iruka read Kakashi's expression as contemplative, though no recognizable emotion flashed into the dark eye or pale features. Finally, the tall student shifted his weight, the only movement that he had made in the last half-minute, and Iruka released the breath he was holding.

"What's in it for me?"

The question was asked casually, as if Kakashi was merely commenting on the weather and not deciding Iruka's future, but the license was tilted to indicate what he had meant.

Even so, it took Iruka a second to understand what the silver-haired young man was asking, but when understanding hit, hope flared almost sickeningly in his chest.

"Anything!" he blurted out, taking a clumsy, earnest step forward.

The way Kakashi raised the visible eyebrow had Iruka blushing furiously. If he hadn't known better, he could have sworn that Kakashi had just_ leered_ at him.

_Damn my mouth._

"_Anything_, sensei?" Kakashi nearly purred.

Iruka had to bit on his tongue violently in order to keep from losing his temper. Screaming in the infuriating senior's face probably won't get him anywhere.

"_Within reason_," Iruka said through clenched teeth.

Kakashi crossed his arms, tapping the license teasingly against his upper arm.

"I don't know if I like that condition. What's within reason for you probably isn't the same as it is for me."

_That's what I'm afraid of, _Iruka thought as his temple began to throb.

"And besides," Kakashi continued as he saw the young teacher's eyes flash, "you are in no position to be making demands."

Iruka stiffened at those words.

"What do you want?" he said in a tight, controlled voice.

The tall, silver-haired student tapped the license against his masked chin as if in thought, the visible eye closed in contemplation. The way he did it held such obvious mockery that Iruka nearly pierced the skin of his bottom lip as he dug his teeth into it.

"Maa, I can't really think of anything specific right now," Kakashi drawled, as he opened his eye to look at the unnecessarily high ceiling. Iruka watched as Kakashi moved to put the license in his pocket.

"Hey!" Iruka protested, his brown eyes widening in panic. But before he could advance forwards, Kakashi held out a hand. Iruka halted, though he sent a vicious glare to the student. Kakashi gave him a look so innocent that the teacher was almost fooled into thinking that the silver-haired monster _wasn't _shoving Iruka's future into his pocket.

"I think that I will hold onto this for the time being," Kakashi said, "And I'll let you know when I think of something. Who knows? Maybe I'll give the license back after you do as I've asked."

Iruka opened his mouth, no doubt ready to unleash a verbal lashing on the other young man, when he was cut off by that drawling voice.

"I think we should both go our separate ways, sensei. If you stay any longer, the security gates will be locked and you'll be stuck here for the entire night."

Iruka blinked in surprise, anger momentarily forgotten, as he glanced at window that was about ten feet down the hallway. With a start, he realized how late it had gotten. The light that was pouring through the glass was a reddish-orange hue. He suddenly felt very foolish, dread shooting through his chest as he remembered his little brother, hoping that the young boy had made it home alright on his own.

His internal panic had obviously stretched too long, because the next thing Iruka was aware of was slow, quiet footsteps moving away from him. Snapping his head back in his direction, his anxiety spiked once more as he saw the back of a silver head moving away from him.

"Hey!" Iruka called harshly, demanding that Kakashi stop, "You can't just _leave_!"

The tall, languid figure halted and the broad shoulders moved with an impatient sigh.

"I can, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. But, rest assured, your secret is safe for now," Kakashi's voice drifted back to Iruka's ears calmly, though it did nothing to calm the young teacher.

The tanned young man made a few incoherent sounds under his breath, strangely pitched and sounding on the verge of hysteria. Kakashi nearly rolled his eye.

"I am not a person to go back on my word, Umino-sensei," Kakashi continued without turning around.

Iruka blinked in surprise at the sincerity in his voice.

"I. . . . Thank you," Iruka said quietly, not knowing what else to say. Somehow, he felt as though the thanks was inappropriate, but if it kept his secret safe, he would say it.

Kakashi turned his head to look back, the dark grey eye locking with Iruka's browns and containing a bone-shilling warning, "Don't thank me. Understand, Iruka-sensei, that if I catch you doing something I dislike, there will be _consequences_."

Iruka didn't really understand what that meant, but he couldn't repress the shiver of fear that shot down his spine at the underlying threat in those words.

_No_, Iruka thought as he watched the powerful form grow smaller as it walked further away, leaving him alone, and still very lost in the labyrinth that was Konoha Gakuen, _that was most certainly not a threat._

It was a promise**.**

* * *

><p>The sun had already gone to bed when Iruka finally stumbled in front of his apartment. His brown eyes rose upward, tired and troubled, to the red-brick building that was so weather-worn that cracks snaked up the wall like overgrown ivy.<p>

Iruka's new neighborhood was far different from the modest, semi-rural rental home that he had lived in only days ago, surrounded by greenery and friendly neighbors. One could gaze at the star-freckled sky while being lulled to sleep by the sound of rustling leaves and the gentle call of an owl. In the morning a person could walk outside to be warmly greeted by the paper boy and welcomed to breakfast by the merry, plump woman next door.

Here, the buildings were so cramped together that Iruka felt almost claustrophobic, unable to see the expanse of the sky overhead. The night sky was devoid of starlight, out-shined by the obnoxious lights that never burned out across the city. Iruka's head rattled with the never ending noise; a honking horn, a revving engine, the wail of multiple sirens, dogs howling wretchedly, the yowling of a hungry cat.

Iruka had lived in cities before, but he'd never found them exciting, beautiful, or even enjoyable as many people seemed to. To him, they were filthy places, a cesspool of cruel, unforgiving people. He wished vehemently that he didn't have to live here in the poorest slums of the city _again_, and more so for his little brother.

A cruel gust of wind cut straight through Iruka's jacket and he shuddered violently. Just as Iruka was about to launch himself into the warmth of the apartment, a sudden moan caused him to stumble on the cracked sidewalk. Pressed into the tiny corner formed by the apartment building and the stairs, only slightly sheltered from the wind, was a dirty old man who stared at Iruka with miserable black eyes. Iruka tore his gaze away, feeling sympathy well up in his chest as he reached for the door handle.

_I can't help you. I can't even help myself right now._

The inside of the apartment was lit by a dim, flickering light bulb that bathed the hallway in a pathetic yellow light. Iruka's bone-weary body shuffled into the building, closing the door behind him. The air smelled bad here, but at least it was warmer.

The blue carpeted halls were worn thin and filthy, but Iruka thought that the dim light made it at least look less disgusting. He began ascending the set of stairs that would eventually take him to the fourth floor. Passing the first floor, he was shouldered roughly aside by a tall, skinny man with greasy hair and foul-smelling breath. Yellow, blood-shot eyes, hazed over by mind-numbing ecstasy, gazed brokenly at Iruka as he passed. Iruka stepped aside as the man stumbled down the stairs. Iruka tried not to stare at the red, angry injection marks on his arms as he hurried up the stairs.

On the third floor, a platinum-blonde woman dressed in nothing but lacy black underwear leaned against the wall, shaky hands moving a cigarette to her mouth. Iruka met her brown, glitter-rimmed eyes and gave her a weak smile, and he was sure that a small smile was about to grace her bruised lips, but a shout from down the hall wiped the expression clean from her face. The beady black eyes of an older man gleamed greedily as he beckoned the woman to the room, promising her money and pleasure. Her lips curled in the beginnings of a snarl, but what the drunken man obviously saw was some sort of sexy smirk and grinned excitedly. The woman limped back to the room and Iruka bit down hard on his lower lip and continued onward.

The fourth floor was identical to the rest in the apartment, complete with dirty blue floors and dim lights. Iruka's brown eyes rested on a small, lanky form standing with their back against one of the doors. Iruka stood still for a second, before slowly making his way to his apartment door, watching the young boy from his peripheral.

Looking about the age of thirteen, the adolescent's pale face was taught and angry. Boney hands clenched over thin biceps, covered by a ratty black t-shirt. His grey eyes, nearly completely covered by shaggy brown hair, stared furiously at the wall. The light reflected off of something in the adolescent's hand, and Iruka frowned as he saw the small blade flick in and out of its sheath. Rhythmically, the pocket knife swished open, before gently being pressed back into place by a careful thumb.

_Swish. Click. Swish. Click. Swish. Click-_

Both Iruka and the young boy jumped when a loud bang was heard behind the door, as well as a high pitched, angry screech followed by a deep bass voice.

"_You useless piece of shit! You __**promised **__no more gambling!"_

"_Don't you __**fucking**__ start with me, bitch! It's my money and I'll damn well gamble if I want!"_

"_What is __**your **__son gonna eat without money for food?"_

"_**You're**__ the one who fucking got pregnant with the little shit! __**You**__ figure it out!"_

"_Who's the one who can't wear a __**fucking **__condom! You think I __**wanted**__ a child?"_

The boy hissed in pain and dropped the knife as he accidentally sliced his finger open. Eyes widening, Iruka stepped forward to help the trembling teen, but before the young man could even open his mouth, the younger boy had bolted down the hallway and down the stairs.

Iruka knew by the bleak determination in the boy's eyes that he would never be seen in the apartment again.

Iruka stood, frozen, before he slumped wearily and ran a hand over his face, blinking back angry tears. He should have called the cops, told them that a young boy was running around with a pocket knife, no doubt about to run away to God-knows-where. But he didn't, because he would have done the exact same thing. It wouldn't have done any good anyway. The police couldn't care less about what happened to the insignificant trash of the slums.

Iruka fumbled tiredly in his shirt for his key, thankful that he had it on a necklace rather than in his wallet like he used to.

The rusted handle put up a good fight, but eventually the weary young man wrestled the door open, and then locked himself inside. Resisting the urge to collapse against the doorway, Iruka quietly slipped off his shoes and set them by the doorway and hung up his coat on the metal hook in the wall.

"Nii-san?"

The young, earnest voice seemed to melt much of the tension from Iruka's body and his mouth curved in an unstoppable smile upon hearing it.

"Tadaima," he called softly.

The rapid padding of small footsteps was all the warning Iruka got before he was tackled by a blur of yellow. Iruka coughed as the air was knocked from his lungs, but he let out weak, but appreciative laughter at the young boy's enthusiasm.

"Iruka-nii! I waited at the bus stop for you, but I went home after fifteen minutes, just like you said. I locked the door and waited for you. . . You're so late," the boy said in an indignant rush, mouth turned downwards as if annoyed with Iruka, but the young man could clearly see how the boy's sapphire eyes shone with anxiety.

Iruka's eyes soften as he knelt down, throwing his arms around the smaller boy.

"I'm sorry I'm so late, Naruto. That was unfair to you," he said softly, running his fingers soothingly through blonde hair.

The young boy hugged him back and gave a large sniff.

"I thought. . . I thought something happened to you. . ." Naruto muttered, stubbornly trying to sound irritated instead of relieved, "It was night-time then, too."

Iruka flinched slightly at the memory before banishing his train of thought and squeezing the boy tighter.

"I'm sorry. I'm proud of you for doing exactly what I said though."

Iruka really did feel terrible. What kind of guardian was he? Naruto had never lived in a city like this before, and the area that they lived in was probably terrifying for a young boy to walk through. It terrified Iruka to think of all the people Naruto had to walk past in order to reach the apartment. The young boy was a very attractive child, with light hair and beautiful eyes that were very eye-catching. Iruka was well aware of the kind of degenerates that resided in the poorer areas of the cities.

"It wasn't that hard," Naruto mumbled, trying to sound tough, and Iruka resisted the urge to laugh at his stubbornness.

"I know, but I'd still like to be there to walk home with you. I promise that I'll be there tomorrow, okay?" Iruka said, ruffling the blonde head of hair.

Naruto swatted his hand away, but he smiled brightly at the brunette.

"Okay!"

"Good, so how was your first day of school?" Iruka asked, standing up straight and stretching his stiff back.

He walked into the small kitchen that was technically part of their living room, and turned on the water faucet. He had to wait for a minute for the murky water to turn clear before grabbing a glass and filled it.

"I don't know. The school's a lot bigger than my old one, and it's full of _rich _kids," at this, Naruto frowned at Iruka as he walked towards the couch, glass in hand, "Why can't I go to the one that's closer, Ruka-nii? I met a kid from there, and he seemed nice."

Iruka sighed, sinking onto the ratty old couch. The springs groaned beneath him as he laid back against the cushions.

"Because my new job allows you to have the benefits of their school program. You're lucky you're _not _going to the local school," he sighed.

Naruto bounced onto the couch beside him, and Iruka was too tired to reprimand him on it.

"Well, I guess it does look nicer. . . and there were _some_ nice kids in my class," the boy admitted grudgingly, crossing his arms.

Iruka chuckled at his expression.

"Really? Did you get along with any of them?" Iruka asked before taking a sip of the water.

"I got in a fight with someone!"

The water ended up splattered all over the carpet. Iruka pounded on his chest as he continued to choke and cough while Naruto continued to beam up at him as if he had just won the Nobel Prize.

"You _what_?"

"There's this jerk in my class named Sasuke, and he called me a dobe! So I punched him in the face!"

Iruka could only gape at his little brother in horror.

"But he got up and kicked me, and so we started fighting!"

"_You got in a fight on your first day of school?"_

"And I woulda won too! But then the teacher came in and she was real mad," Naruto's proud expression collapsed into one of disdain, "I don't like her. She's mean and she looks like a bat."

Iruka let out a long, suffering groan and buried his face in his hands.

"_Please_ tell me you didn't tell her that."

"Er. . . Well, she said that she was going to call you, but I told her that you didn't have a phone."

Iruka wasn't sure how he should react right now. If they were back at their old house, there was no doubt that he would have exploded into fury and smacked the boy into next week, but right then he simply couldn't bring himself to get angry at him.

Despite the fact that the boy had probably gotten him into monumental trouble, he couldn't stay mad at him. A horrid, uneasy churning in his stomach resurfaced as he remembered how horribly he had messed up today. What Naruto did seemed extremely miniscule compared to the trouble that Iruka had brought upon both of them. To punish the child would make him an enormous hypocrite ad increase the nauseating guilt in Iruka's stomach. He stared down at the person who met the most to him in the world, the person who he had sworn to protect at any cost.

And he had failed him in only a few short hours.

"Ruka-nii?" Naruto asked, blonde eyebrows furrowing.

Iruka swallowed and looked away from the boy, unable to meet those innocent eyes.

Naruto looked up at his big brother and instantly knew that something was wrong. Even at the young age of ten, the boy was extremely intuitive when it came to emotions. His big brother was always smiling at everyone, no matter who they were or how mean they were to him. Iruka was strong, smart, and brave in ways that Naruto admired and idolized.

But, Naruto was always worried about him, because he would sometimes see his brother sitting somewhere and looking at pieces of white paper that would always come in the mail, and his nii-san would look so tired, sad, and scared. But, no matter what, Iruka would smile at him, hug him, and tell him that everything would be alright.

But Naruto would always know when things were not alright. He could see it in his brother's eyes, no matter how cheerful his face was.

He saw it the day Iruka had told him that he couldn't go to school anymore because he had to work and not to worry, because that was completely normal, even though Naruto knew it wasn't. He saw it the day the mean policeman came to their house and threw all of their stuff outside, locked the door to their house, and shoved Iruka to the ground.

And he could see it right now as well.

"I'm sorry, Nii-san, I shouldn't have gotten in a fight," Naruto suddenly said, a small hand reached to grab the sleeve of Iruka's shirt.

Iruka gave Naruto a soft, but strained smile, and ruffled his hair.

"I know you're sorry, Naruto," he said quietly, "But can you promise me that you'll never do it again?"

Iruka felt his heart lighten a little as Naruto flashed him his signature, toothy smile.

"I promise!"

"Good boy," Iruka chuckled, "So, were you able to scrounge yourself something to eat?"

"I made instant ramen!" Naruto exclaimed proudly, pointing to the empty bowl in the middle of their floor.

Iruka raised an eyebrow at the mess the boy had made of the stove, and the spots on the carpet where Naruto had carried the steaming bowl into the living room. They wouldn't have any tables or chairs until Iruka saved up enough money from his new job, so the two had settled for eating last night's take-out in the middle of the living room.

"Why am I not surprised?," Iruka sighed in mock exasperation, "And here I thought I could trust you to feed yourself for one night."

Naruto's face collapsed into an indignant put, lower lip jutting out and scarred cheeks puffed up.

"I did!"

Iruka stared at the bowl as if in contemplation, before he finally shrugged and shook his head.

"Yes, I supposed you did, at any rate," the sigh Iruka sighed was filled with false wistfulness, "Now, if you could only grow taller. . ."

"Hey! I'm big!" Naruto admonished fervently, shooting a haughty glare at Iruka.

Then elder of the two fought a snicker.

"Don't worry Naruto, I'll still love you even if you remain a midget forever!"

Naruto growled playfully and stood up on the couch so that he towered above the sitting Iruka, thrusting his hands on his hips triumphantly.

"Hah! Now I'm taller than you!" he boasted, poking Iruka on his scarred nose.

Naruto's eyes widened as a wicked smirk donned Iruka's face, and before he could brace himself, both of his ankles were grabbed and pulled from beneath him.

Of course, Iruka didn't let the child hit the sofa too hard and made sure his head hit the couch pillows. Naruto's loud, infectious laughter rang throughout the room, mixing with Iruka's evil cackling as he began tickling the child senseless. The blond wriggled and kicked, but Iruka was relentless.

"R-Ruka. . .N-Nii. . . I-I-I can't. . . _b-breathe_!" Naruto gasped through his loud laughter, tears of laughter brimming in his cerulean eyes.

"That's fine by me. That way you won't be able to say your cheeky comments," Iruka said with a cruel smirk.

"I-I give. . . I g-g-give!"

"Come again?"

"_R-Ruka-nii_. . .I-I said I-"

A sudden, loud bang from overhead caused the two bonding males to jump, laughter instantly quieted as they looked to the ceiling. There were a few more very deliberate thumps a muffled, angrily yelling voice from above. Iruka could vaguely make out the words 'shut up' and 'too loud'.

Naruto scowled at the ceiling, but then winced and rubbed his eye as some of the paint from the ceiling fell from the vibrations and landed in his eyes.

Iruka sighed ruefully at the ceiling, sad that his one moment of happiness for the day was ended so prematurely. Smiling softly, he ruffled Naruto's unruly hair.

"We have to be mindful of our neighbors now that they live so close now," he said to the young boy, who was trying to force whoever lived above them to combust with his glare, "and besides, I think that it's bedtime anyway."

Naruto looked like he was about the protest, his scarred cheeks puffing up in a pout, but his jaws suddenly split in a massive yawn. Iruka chuckled.

"Yep. Definitely time for bed."

Roughly ten minutes later, Naruto was conked out on the futon in the only bedroom in the apartment. Iruka was leaning against the doorframe, watching with a small smile as the boy's nose twitched in his sleep. Iruka's little brother was the only thing that seemed to really make him smile these days.

The moon bathed the young boy in its silver light, turning his blonde hair silver.

Why did that bring an image of Kakashi to his mind?

Clenching his jaw, Iruka slowly closed the door so not to wake his little brother. The lights were all off in the living room, bathing everything in a blanket of shadows. The only sound to be heard was the quiet ticking of the clock that Iruka had never gotten around to putting on the wall. It lay in a corner, staring mockingly at him. It read nine-thirty, but Iruka couldn't even think about sleep despite the weariness that had set in his bones. His gut continued to wrench guiltily, and he couldn't seem to shake the feeling that his life was about to take an unanticipated turn. Iruka hated surprises. The surprises that life gave him were almost always unpleasant.

Sighing, Iruka shuffled over to the couch, and flopped ungracefully onto the less-than-comfortable cushions. It creaked underneath him and one of the springs dug into his side, but at that point he didn't care. He stared at the opposite wall, watching as the shadows danced over it in response to the headlights of the cars driving past. Over the near-deafening silence, he could hear the ever-present, obnoxious hum of the city, reverberating in his head and chasing sleep further away.

Iruka would have given anything to be back in the country side and pretend that none of this was happening.

But he couldn't, and he was resigned to that fact. He had to be strong now.

Sighing, Iruka reached over to the cardboard box beside the couch, on which rested his alarm clock. Setting it for the _right_ hour this time, he turned it on and settled back into the couch.

It was no surprise to him that when he opened his eyes to flip over the pillow to the cold side, his alarm read 1:00 AM. The young teacher shuddered a little. It was, after all, quite cold out, but the heating system in the apartment left much to be desired. However, Iruka didn't feel like getting up to unpack the sheets. With a sigh, he flipped onto his back, bringing up his forearm to cover his eyes.

It wasn't as if Iruka wasn't used to sleepless nights—he had them often, lately. Insomnia wasn't something that he had thought he would ever develop. Then again, most of the things that had happened to him already weren't things that he had expected. He learned the hard way that one mustn't ever tempt fate with such thinking. No one was invincible.

With another sigh, Iruka rolled to his other side in order to face the back of the couch. That way, he didn't have to look at the moving shadows that threatened to close in on him.

He didn't know how long he laid there thinking about what was going to happen the next day despite telling himself that thinking about it wasn't going to change anything.

Iruka felt suffocated, crushed under the weight of responsibility that he didn't know how to cope with. He wished he could talk to somebody, rely on someone, if they could only remove the boulder that was breaking his back and slowly wearing him down.

He was so, so tired.

But he just couldn't sleep.

* * *

><p>In the dim light of the large room, a silver-haired young man looked out over the city, a blanket of flickering lights that stretched for miles in every direction. In the distance there was a dim outline of a mountain range, haloed by the last glimpses of a setting sun that only someone at high altitude could see. If he looked down, it felt like he was standing on the very edge of a skyscraper's roof. The sheer drop would have been intimidating if he hadn't been so used to it.<p>

The city at night was entrancing, as always, but he didn't want to enjoy the view tonight.

He clicked the button on the wall and watched as long, velvety red drapes closed over the glass wall, effectively closing him off from the rest of the world.

With a sigh, Kakashi lowered himself onto his bed, not tired enough to tuck himself between the creamy, silk sheets. With another pushing of buttons on the panel on his wall, the fireplace sprang to life filling the room with warm light.

And yet, he didn't really feel any warmer—never had, even with it on—and wondered why he even had the fireplace to begin with. Oh, yeah, the designers thought it was tasteful.

He didn't know that he had ever given a rat's ass about taste, but whatever.

Glancing at his nightstand, he contemplated picking up his reading material, but that didn't really interest him at the moment. His thoughts were elsewhere.

More specifically, they were on a certain feisty little brunette whom he was seriously looking forward to harassing the next day.

Today, actually, seeing as the clock already read to be 1:00 AM. Really, he should work on getting his sleeping schedule back to normal.

Running a hand through his silver hair, he looked at the ceiling, contemplating his new teacher.

Iruka was different, Kakashi mused. He was obviously an earnest and easily flustered person, if his panic from tripping Kakashi in the locker room was any indication, but with a fearsome temper that could make even Anko shut up. He was also very determined, stubbornly refusing to break under fear or pressure, a trait that Kakashi respect even though it had the potential to wear on his nerves. He wasn't sure whether to describe Iruka as stupid or courageous for becoming a teacher at such a young age, but he supposed that was a question that would be answered with time.

But, above all, Kakashi found Iruka just extremely fascinating, something out of the norm in his life. And Lord knows that Kakashi flocked to abnormality like a moth to a light-bulb. A curious person by nature, once something piques his interest, there are very few forces on earth that could tear him away.

Kakashi lazily fingered his prize of the day without any conscious thought, gazing with half-lidded eyes at the doe-eyed, smiling face in the little rectangle box in the corner. But, nonetheless, Kakashi found himself increasingly enthralled with this new, interesting person. His dark grey eyes recalled flushed honey-toned skin, fiery chocolate eyes rimmed with dark lashes, dark hair falling messily around a heart-shaped face, and a slender but strong body pressed against his own, tense and angry.

Anyone who knew him would say that any person who caught Kakashi's eye would wind up being either the luckiest or sorriest being in existence.

Really, the best course of action would be to run for the hills at that point, and hope that Kakashi would lose interest quickly.

But anyone could see it was far too late for Iruka.

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><p><strong>Author's Box<strong>

**I'm sorry that I haven't updated lately, but this chapter didn't practically write itself like the first two. I had to force my way through some of it, which is usually an indicator that it's probably not as enjoyable as the previous two chapters. If that is the case, feel free to tell me! **

**This chapter was partly for you all to get a look at the life that Iruka lives in comparison to the people he teaches. It might help explain a little bit why I've characterized Iruka the way I did.**

**I would also like to thank all of the people who reviewed the last chapter, and for those who gave me support through the troubles that I've been having. I'm alright now, in fact I'm not depressed at all anymore! And a large part of that is because of you all! Thank you all so much.**

**Finally, feel free to critique or review!  
><strong>


	4. A Helping Hand

Disclaimer: "Hello?. . .This is she. . . Wha-? No, I-!. . . NO!. . . DAMNIT, I DON'T-!. . ._ LOOK, I DON'T OWN NARUTO OKAY? SO STOP CALLING ME!_"-click- "Freak."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello! I would first like to recognize a very important person! This chapter was beta-ed by the lovely HopeinAshes! She definitely made a difference! :)

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><p><strong><em>Chapter Four<em>**

_A Helping Hand_

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><p>After four cups of tea and a couple of ibuprofen, Iruka felt at least adequately human. He hadn't gotten much more than three hours of sleep the night before, and knew that he would be just about dead when he got home that night.<p>

His hair was still damp around his shoulders as he buttoned up his white collared shirt and slid on his black slacks. Quickly, he went to the stack of boxes in the corner and began to rummage through one of them. He grinned in triumph as he removed his carry-around umbrella and shoved it firmly in his suitcase. Never again would he be caught without it, not after yesterday's events.

Worriedly, he glanced at the clock.

"Naruto! Are you almost ready?" he called as he gathered his hair up into his usual high ponytail, frowning at the strands that fell into his face, but deciding to ignore them for the time being.

A blonde head peeked from around the corner of their bathroom with the grumpiest expression a ten-year-old could muster, obviously not a morning person and loathing the sun for feeling the need to rise that morning.

" 'na m'nt! Gzz urj'z l'ke a m'm," Naruto replied crossly, a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth with fat drops of tooth-paste foam dripping onto the carpet floor.

Iruka blinked, not even bothering to attempt to decipher the unintelligible speech.

"Just hurry up."

Sapphire eyes rolled irritably to the ceiling before disappearing back into the bathroom.

Iruka fiddled with his tie some more, aggravated with the stiffness of his uniform. Iruka wasn't the type who liked to wear much else other than jeans and t-shirts — because, really, weren't clothes simply for covering up your body? — but obviously those days were far behind him.

A few minutes later he glanced at the clock again and felt irritation begin to simmer in his chest. He could almost taste a repeat of yesterday morning, running through the streets like a madman.

"_Naruto!_" he called with a little more sternness, tugging on his other shoe and nearly tripping over himself in the process.

"Coming, coming," the young boy grumbled as he grabbed his backpack from its spot by the couch and hurriedly ran a hand through his unruly locks. "There, see? Done!"

Iruka rolled his eyes, but decided lecturing the boy on the importance of hair-brushing just wasn't worth it that morning. Naruto only grinned and began to head towards the door.

"Oi, wait! Don't forget your breakfast!" Iruka called, tossing one of the breakfast sandwiches he was holding to Naruto.

"Thanks, nii-san!"

Iruka waved his hand in response and followed Naruto to the door. Just as he was about to close the door however, the young man realized something was missing. With a small gasp, he yanked the door open and rushed inside tossing his sandwich on the couch and picking up his jacket that he'd nearly forgotten there. Sighing, he tugged the piece of stiff fabric onto his shoulders and bolted back towards the door. The ten-year-old outside gave him a questioning look.

"You're really out-of-it today, Ruka-nii," Naruto teased, "And you call _me_ an airhead."

Iruka cuffed the blonde playfully over the head as he locked the door to their apartment.

"Until you stop missing your mouth when you drink because you were daydreaming, I will always call you an airhead," the young teacher deadpanned.

Naruto made an indignant face, but wisely decided to let it drop. His brother was much more likely to go into a rage when he was tired.

With a huff, the blonde ripped open the package containing his breakfast with unnecessary ardour, and the scent of still-warm sandwich quickly hit Iruka's nose, reminding him how hungry he was. He would eat his sandwich as well.

Now where was—?

"_Shit," _Iruka groaned when he realized that his breakfast sandwich was sitting inside their apartment on the couch.

Briefly, he debated going back up the four flights of stairs to get it, but dismissed the idea almost immediately, seeing as they were already outside of the apartment and were on the brink of running late.

Naruto looked up at him with a slight furrow to his blond eyebrows.

"What?" he asked around a mouthful of food.

"It's nothing," Iruka sighed, brushing back the bangs that were threatening to fall into his face.

Azure eyes searched his face, probing in a way that wouldn't have been so insightful had it been any normal child his age, but Iruka knew that his little brother was far more intuitive than most.

"You sure? You look kinda pale," Naruto pressed before shoving his face full of the remainder of his sandwich.

Iruka wondered how it was possible to be so sensitive to a person's emotions and yet be so _insensitive_ at the same time.

"Yeah, I just remembered something is all," Iruka half-lied. Naruto gave him a suspicious look and opened his mouth to speak, but Iruka beat him to it, "Wipe your mouth. You look like a pig."

"Thanks, _mom_."

"That would make you a bastard, seeing as I'm not married," Iruka pointed out.

" Not surprising. You'd be one bitchy wife—ow!"

"_Language_, Naruto."

"Hypocrite," Naruto muttered under his breath.

A vein throbbed ominously in Iruka's temple, his fist still while a strained smile pulled at the corners of his lips.

"What was that?"

Naruto quickly shut his mouth and continued to walk.

Iruka sighed, grimacing as he remembered Naruto's comment about his paleness. He knew that he looked a little worse for wear. He was tired, incredibly stressed, and he hadn't eaten much since yesterday morning. He was aware that he was practicing very poor health habits, but hey, at least he was saving money on food.

Though, he had to admit that dizzy spells were a real downside to lack of sustenance. He would be alright though, definitely.

The air was fresh—for a city, anyway— as it always was after a day of rain. Dew clung to the grass sticking up between the cracks in the sidewalk and clung to the metal posts of street lamps and a gentle breeze lightly ruffled Iruka's still-damp hair. There was a light fog blanketing the buildings, making Iruka feel increasingly caged-in.

As they approached the wealthier portion of the city, the crowds began to thicken and people began looking less shady and more stuck-up in appearance. Iruka grasped onto Naruto's shoulders and ushered him through the crowd like he had the day before, shielding him from the irritable shoves from all directions. Naruto insisted that he could fend for himself and that Iruka didn't _have_ to get bruised up just to protect him, but he didn't really expect his mother-hen brother to listen. It was amusing, though, to watch people step warily to the side to allow them passage as his brother glared at anyone who came too close to touching Naruto. Really, you'd think Iruka thought he was a little girl or something.

"Nii-san," Naruto grouched, "We're at the bus stop."

Iruka let go of Naruto's shoulders and laughed, scratching his scarred nose sheepishly.

As the bus rolled around the corner, Iruka pulled Naruto in for a swift hug, ruffling his already dishevelled hair affectionately.

"You have a good day, okay?" he told the boy grinning up at him, "and _no fighting_."

Naruto rolled his eyes, but shot Iruka a mischievous look that earned him a warning glare.

"I mean it, Naruto!"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Jeez!" Naruto laughed over his shoulder.

Iruka watched as Naruto entered the bus and disappeared. He blinked in amusement as the mop of blond hair reappeared in the window, a round face press against the glass of a dirty glass and smiling brilliantly him. Iruka figured that he would ignore the fact that the action was incredibly unsanitary for that moment, laughing brightly at his brother as the bus drove away. The kid always knew how to cheer him up.

With a shake of his head, Iruka left the bus stop and continued the walk to his own, which was quite some time away. It allowed him to gather his worried thoughts.

Such as what on earth he was going to do about Kakashi.

The thought sent a wave of nausea to his empty stomach. He stumbled slightly as his head swam with too many thoughts and he stopped to take a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, determined to make it through the day, Iruka forced his legs to move in the direction of his bus stop.

Iruka was getting far more skilled at dodging the people pushing past him along the streets; he managed to snake through the masses without getting too jostled like he had the day before. Today, he was actually glad for the provided body heat, the biting air was thwarted by the mass of bodies surrounding him as he waited to cross the crosswalk.

The light signalled that it was safe to walk and the traffic parallel to the crosswalk began to move when something caught Iruka's eye.

A sleek black car blatantly stood out, even amongst some of the more beautiful cars. Shimmering sports cars and gaudy convertibles paled in comparison. With windows tinted to a reflective onyx, the car gleamed in the light like the sleek fur of a black panther. Its engine purred softly, giving off a feeling of predation.

Iruka admired it out of the corner of his eye before tearing himself away. It wouldn't do to yearn after things he could never have. Humming absently, the young teacher turned off onto a less occupied street—a shortcut to his bus stop. There were few to no cars driving on this street, most of them stuck on the main road.

Because of that, Iruka was surprised to hear the purr of an engine turning just as he was. Glancing back, his suspicions were confirmed when he saw the glistening car turn off as well. Iruka looked away again, shrugging at the coincidence, and continued his hurried walking.

Iruka's brow furrowed when the car didn't pass him, moving at a crawling pace despite the fact that the driver could be going much faster. When he turned his head again in order to catch a curious glance, he jumped in surprise from the vehicle's close proximity, moving at exactly the same speed as he was. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck raise in alarm, his stomach twisting with unease.

_I'm just being paranoid,_ Iruka thought, trying to remain calm.

Even so, he suddenly turned off onto a random street, just to be sure. He breathed a sigh of relief as the car slowly rolled past and continued down the nearly vacant urban street. Iruka laughed at himself, chastising his own nervousness.

Feeling giddy from the sudden adrenaline, Iruka walked briskly back up the unknown street, now certain that the car wasn't following him.

So it was quite a surprise when, as he turned the corner, he was greeted with the terrifying image of a car speeding towards him, engine revving. Iruka froze, his heart stopped, and suddenly all he could hear was a loud ringing in his ears, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the vehicle. It struck at him like a black mamba, sleek and deadly, and yet Iruka couldn't force his body to move, standing there like a deer caught in headlights.

Only when it was too late to try to move anyway, did Iruka close his eyes.

His hair was whipped back by the force of the wind and some dirt sprayed up into his face, but he didn't feel the force of _n_-horsepower barrelling into his body, crushing his bones, ripping apart his skin, or tearing his spirit from his flesh. His eyes were welded shut, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, and afraid to open his eyes only to see that he'd already crossed over to the next world. However, it suddenly occurred to him that he could hear his heart beating frantically in his ears, so he couldn't be dead, right? Though, he did feel like he was about to have a heart attack.

"Get in the car."

The smooth voice easily broke through the hammering in his ears and chest, and Iruka's brown eyes snapped open. As his eyes adjusted, he gasped out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He found himself staring into the back seat of the flamboyant vehicle. Confused, his eyes darted to his right to see the black tire tracks on the car from where it had swerved to avoid hitting him. The back of the car was incredibly spacious, almost like what one would see in a limo, with cushiony, black leather seats that were probably nicer than any couch Iruka had ever sat on.

But none of that floored him nearly as much as who was sitting in the car.

"_Hatake-san?_"

The silver-headed figure saluted him lazily, staring at him through a half-lidded, lethargic eye.

"Yo."

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing?"

Kakashi tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Well, I do believe that I was on my way to school when I spotted someone who looked like they needed a lift. So, here I am!" he said cheerily, his visible eye curling upward in a strange smile.

Iruka stared, mouth agape, one eye twitching sporadically.

"You almost _ran me over_!" he roared at the infuriating aristocrat, pointing at him accusingly. "Don't you go acting like a damn good Samaritan!"

"Ah, _almost_ being the operative word, Iruka," was Kakashi's airy reply, "Besides, it wasn't _me_ who was driving," he pointed out, gesturing to the closed-off driver's section. Iruka glanced at the driver's window, but it was too tinted to see through.

Iruka ground his teeth together and fisted his hands at his side, one hand gripping his suitcase so hard that it hurt. He could feel one hell of a headache coming on, and staying here with this insane bastard wasn't going to help that, he was sure.

"Maa, are you going to stand there and glare at me all day, or are you going to get in?" Kakashi drawled.

"Look, I don't need a ride from you, Hatake-san. I'm perfectly fine with walking," the young Umino growled irately, ready to continue his walk to his bus stop. If he didn't hurry, he would miss his bus and it would be like yesterday all over again.

"You're being unreasonably stubborn."

Iruka's eye twitched.

_Yeah. I'm unreasonable for not getting into the car that almost made road kill out of me. Clearly, I'm in the wrong here. _

"No, I'm practicing self preservation," the scarred young man deadpanned.

"You make it sound like I'm some sort of predator," Kakashi said with a raised eyebrow.

The stare that he received for that comment was dry and reproachful, which amused Kakashi greatly.

"Point taken."

"I'm glad you see it my way," Iruka replied dryly, "Now, if you'll excuse me."

Kakashi's voice is what stopped him, both patient and authoritative in a way that made Iruka falter in his resolve.

"Iruka, get in the car."

Gritting his teeth, Iruka held his ground.

"I said, _no_."

"I wasn't giving you a choice."

At those words, Iruka bristled violently, whipping his head around to give the infuriating silver-haired aristocrat a viscous glare.

"_Fuck you." _He all but snarled, body trembling with the effort it took to keep his temper under control.

"I'm more of a topper myself, actually, but thanks for the offer," Kakashi replied insipidly, his steely grey eye staring at Iruka with an unreadable shield before suddenly curling up into his unique smile, "Although, I wouldn't mind compromising."

Iruka flushed in both chagrin and anger, not quite able to believe the audacity of the other young male.

"Enough of this," he spat, "If you want something from me because you know my secret, I'll do it, but I will _not_ associate with you at any other time. You want extra points on tests? To be excused from homework? To not be counted absent when you skip class?Fine, whatever, but don't treat me like your damn toy. I'll do any favours you ask, but I will _not _be your little accessory."

With that, Iruka turned on his heel with every intention of storming in the opposite direction. However, his dramatic exit was spectacularly ruined by a hand grasping his wrist. Startled, Iruka whirled around. How the other young man was able to move that fast was beyond Iruka, but Kakashi's tall form was no longer sitting in the car. Instead, he stood directly behind Iruka with a laxness that would have made anyone believe that he'd been standing there the whole time.

"Have you eaten today?"

Iruka was taken aback for a moment, but the anger quickly found its way back.

"What? Let go of me!" Iruka snapped, trying to wrench his arm away from Kakashi's iron grip, but to no avail.

"Answer my question."

Iruka glared daggers at him.

"If you _must_ know, Hatake-_sama,_ I haven't eaten today. What does that have to do with anything?"

Kakashi looked him over closely, scanning his slighter frame with a critical eye. Iruka warily tried to pull farther away from him, but the blasted hand gripping his wrist would not let go no matter how hard he pulled.

"You're pale, and you're shaking involuntarily. You look like you're about to pass out," Kakashi rattled off in a matter-of-fact tone, and Iruka suddenly realized that his fingers were trembling slightly, "I'm guessing that you're attempting to catch the next bus at the Kyoshi Street stop. That bus leaves in five minutes. The only way you're going to be able to catch it is if you run, which you are in no condition to do."

Iruka looked away, feeling his ears heat up in embarrassment at having been lectured like a child.

"I can take care of myself. I didn't ask for your help," Iruka growled, feeling more and more agitated and threatened the longer he was trapped in Kakashi's grip, "Let _go_ of me!"

Kakashi didn't answer, didn't let him go, and didn't look away from his face.

"I never said you couldn't," he replied quietly, and Iruka was startled by the lack of dryness in his tone.

Iruka stopped straining against the hand so violently, though he remained tense. His wrist throbbed from the struggle, but didn't hurt like he thought it should have. Suddenly Iruka realized how loose Kakashi's grip was, not squeezing with bruising force that would keep him trapped, but with a firmness that kept his pulling from breaking the firm, but gentle cage of his fingers.

Iruka's mind was reeling, trying to figure out the motive behind Kakashi's actions. He had started blackmailing him only yesterday, but was now offering him a ride to school? After he'd said all of those harsh things to Iruka the day before, calling him _trash_? What had changed Kakashi's image of him so drastically in less than twenty-four hours? Iruka's tiredness caught up to him very quickly the more he thought. Gritting his teeth, the young teacher shut his eyes and braced himself to keep himself from swooning.

"Hatake-san, what do you want from me?" he asked in a lowered voice, trying to calm himself.

Brown eyes stared into a single grey one, searching for an answer that he knew deep in his gut that he wasn't going to get directly. Slowly, the silver-haired student lowered both of their hands and released Iruka's wrist, watching the brunette very closely.

"All I want," he began calmly, "Is for you to accompany me to school. Not as a toy and not to make you uncomfortable."

Iruka opened his mouth, ready to ask "Then, _why_," but Kakashi beat him to it.

"I'm not a cruel person by nature, Iruka, although I probably seem so to you after yesterday. I see someone—someone who has not done anything wrong to me—in need of a helping hand that I am able to give," Kakashi explained smoothly, as if it had been rehearsed at least a dozen times under the tutelage of a professional actor, "So, why shouldn't I help you?"

To Iruka's own horror, he realized that the words were _placating_ him. Quickly, he summoned back up his defences, shoulders tensing.

"That's rich, coming from someone who's blackmailing me," Iruka said, brown eyes distrustful.

Kakashi looked at him for a few moments before he let out a long sigh, scratching the back of his head and shrugging.

"Maa, you make a valid point. But your bus is going to leave in three minutes, if it's running late. If you can run that fast, I would be very impressed."

Iruka's jaw clenched as he felt his left eye twitch sporadically. Kakashi looked at his watch.

"Tick tock. The clock is ticking, Iruka."

"Hatake-san, let me make myself clear. There is nothing, _nothing_ you can say that will get me into that car with you."

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><p>Scrunched up so close against the door that he might as well have been glued there, Iruka glared wrathfully out of the window. While the windows were tinted from the outside, they were crystal clear from within and non-reflective, allowing for an ample amount of distraction in the form of people bustling down the sidewalks. Arms crossed, he looked similar to a petulant child who had just been thoroughly chastised, only much more dangerous. Once again, he rattled the door handle and inwardly fumed that the <em>damn<em> _child lock_ was on.

Kakashi, the Bastard, was watching him. He could feel it prickling on his skin and the other young man made no effort to conceal it.

The quiet stretched on as Iruka continued to feel as though he were being silently molested.

But, no, Iruka would _not_ rise to the bait. All he had to do now was sit quietly and wait for the car to pull up to the school. Then he would make a run for it. He might even be able to avoid the Bastard until class began.

"You know, if you glare any harder, you might strain something," Kakashi drawled from the other side of the car, slouching laxly in his seat.

"You're crazy, you know that?" Iruka spat.

Kakashi hummed thoughtfully.

"No, I can't say that I do. Although, they _do_ say that crazy people never think that they're crazy. Hmm, that's something to think about later."

"You are _so bat-shit crazy_ that it's not even funny."

"I don't think being crazy is ever a laughing matter. However, I can confidently say that I'm not crazy, just literal."

Iruka snorted sardonically.

"You saidthat there was nothing I could _say _that would get you into the car. So, what other choice did I have?" Kakashi replied as if he had done nothing wrong.

Iruka turned and directed his glare at the silver-haired student, imagining that his head would explode.

"That didn't mean that you were entitled to pick me up and throw me into the backseat," he growled, "You could have _left me alone_."

"Hmm, I'll be honest. That idea never occurred to me."

"Obviously," Iruka bit out.

"You know, for someone so light, you're really loud. I'm sure someone thought I was abducting you," Kakashi said thoughtfully, as if it had just come to him.

Iruka was going to rip his hair out. Indefinitely.

"You _are_ abducting me!"

Kakashi blinked at him.

"Well, I suppose in a manner of speaking. . ."

_In what manner of speaking is this _not _abduction?_

But Iruka didn't say anything, knowing that Kakashi really, truly didn't care that he was completely violating his human rights. In fact, Iruka wasn't entirely sure if the wealthy young man knew such rights existed in the first place.

Instead of musing how wonderful Kakashi's head would look mounted on his wall, Iruka focused on taking deep, calming breaths. He couldn't kill Kakashi even outside of school property. That would most definitely get him fired.

"At any rate, I think it would be best if we didn't associate outside of school. It's very unprofessional. I _do_ have to keep up appearances, you know," he sighed, rubbing his temple to ward off the impending headache.

Kakashi hummed absently, flicking at a piece of lint on the sleeve of his white-collared shirt and Iruka's temple began to throb angrily.

"_Are you even listening to_—"

"Ah, look! We're here!" Kakashi pointed out offhandedly, unbuckling his seat belt.

Iruka turned to look out the window and blinked at the building that they had pulled up to. He rubbed his eyes and blinked some more.

His eyes slowly slid over the grandiose fountain, spurting crystalline water, before they ascended the gently sloping stairs that lead up to the building's main entrance. Pillars stretched in front of the sandstone colored walls, which donned tall, arched windows. Iruka could see the crimson drapes hanging from the windows and clothed tables inside. The main entrance was a very large French door made of a rich, polished wood and dark-stained glass. On either side of the door were two large, white ceramic planters filled with pretentious flower arrangements. Also on the left and right of the door were two men in stiff, black tuxedos; their sole purpose being to open the two sides of the door for the people who entered the building.

_Oh __**hell**__ no._

"Hatake-san, where are we?" Iruka asked slowly as the silver-haired young man opened the door on his side.

Kakashi blinked innocently at the chillingly tranquil look on the Iruka's face and looked back at the ostentatious building.

"Well, it isn't the school," he observed.

Iruka gritted his teeth, not pleased with Kakashi's word games.

"_Where are we?"_ he bit out with more force, a trembling undertone to his voice that simply promised some form of verbal castration.

The Hatake scratched the back of his silver head, his eye curved in his strange smile.

"Maa, well, I'm feeling a little hungry this morning, so I thought that I'd swing by here to grab a bite to eat."

"Hatake-san, you_ 'grab a bite to eat' _at a fast food place. This looks like a five star restaurant!"

"No, no. Ichiraku's only has four stars."

Iruka's eye was twitching again.

"Well, don't mind me. I'll wait here and you can go eat," Iruka said, inwardly plotting his escape.

Kakashi could just see the devious little wheels turning in the scarred teacher's head and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh no, you're coming with me!" he said cheerily, grasping Iruka's arm.

The young teacher's brown eyes widened in anxiety as he latched into the seat with his free hand, feeling heat beginning to rise to his cheeks.

"Seriously, Hatake-san, I really don't have time for this. I have to get to school!" he said in desperation, trying to think of anything that would get him out of this situation.

"Iruka, don't think I don't know how long your bus-ride is. We have more than an hour before your bus would even drop you off at your stop. We have almost two hours before teachers usually arrive at school, and more than two hours before school even starts. There's plenty of time," Kakashi rationalized easily, irritating Iruka even more.

Ignoring the urge to ask _how_ _the hell Kakashi knew so much about his bus route_, Iruka glared at Kakashi, refusing to budge in response to the tugging.

"That will give me plenty of time to walk then," he shot back, tugging ferociously on his arm.

"I would be really pleased if you would join me for breakfast."

Iruka gasped as Kakashi begin forcefully removing him from the car. Tan fingers grasped onto the seat like it was a lifeline.

"_I_ would be really pleased if you _let go of me_."

Iruka lost his grip on the seat as Kakashi gave his arm a more persuasive tug. He scrambled to keep himself from falling ungracefully out of the car and onto the pavement, swinging his legs back underneath him. Before Kakashi could pull him completely away from the vehicle, Iruka groped madly for the edge of the door and locked his fingers into place. Kakashi sighed.

"This situation feels quite familiar don't you think? I seem to recall the same stubbornness from just a few minutes ago."

"And yet you _still_ won't take a hint!" Iruka grunted from the strain.

Kakahsi hummed nonchalantly, as if prying Iruka from his car door was as easy as breathing. With irritation, Iruka mused that that was probably the case.

"Don't make me pick you up and carry you inside."

With one sharp tug, Iruka's body snapped forward clumsily, about to tumble unceremoniously onto the concrete ground. Having braced himself for a painful fall, he gasped when a muscular arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him gently back to his feet. His gaze snapped up only to find himself staring into a fathomless, dark-grey eye. Hot breath fanned across his scarred nose and a hard chest pressed flush against this own, the beating of a heart massaging his sternum. His breath caught in his throat as that single eye swallowed him, blazing with a dark amusement that had a shiver shooting down Iruka's spine.

"Careful there, _sensei_," a low, slightly husky voice whispered against the shell of Iruka's ear.

Masked lips curled up in a lewd smirk as Kakashi revelled in the feel of the lithe body shuddering against his chest and the arch in the slender back against his arm

Iruka stared up at him in shocked silence, chocolate brown eyes wide and cheeks now an embarrassingly deep shade of red. Ignoring the mad racing of his heart and shallowness of his breathing, Iruka used the adrenaline to shove Kakashi far enough away so that they were no longer touching so intimately.

"D-Don't call me that in public!" Iruka hissed in panic, eyes darting around left and right, "Someone might hear!"

Kakashi's tense muscles relaxed back into their lax position as he gave the flustered teacher an innocent look.

"_Sensei_ doesn't want to have a meal with me?," Kakashi began in an unnecessarily loud voice, looking far too pleased as another car began to pull up to the entrance, "I would have thought that my own_ sensei_ would be willing to have a meal with a lonely student simply out of the kindness of his _sensei_-like heart. But if my _sensei_ doesn't want to be a good _sensei_, I suppose I'll let him be a normal _sensei_. A _sensei_ that makes his students hate their_ sensei_ and never want to grow up to become a _sensei_ themselves for fear of becoming a _sensei _just as cruel as the _sensei_ before them. After all, a _sensei_ like you—"

Iruka slapped a hand over Kakashi's mouth, panic evident on his face as the other car came to a stop behind theirs.

"J-Just, _Shhhhhhh_! _Shush_! _Shut up_! I'll eat with you, okay? For the love of God_, shut up_!"

"_Promise_?" Kakashi asked with an amused grin, earning him a murderous glare.

"Yes, yes, I _promise_! Just stop it!" Iruka hissed in Kakashi's face, eyes wide with panic.

He didn't notice the way Kakashi's single grey eye glimmered with amusement as he took in the blush dusted across tan cheeks and a little scarred nose.

"See, Iruka? Was agreeing to come with me so hard?" the silver-haired aristocrat asked.

If looks could kill, Kakashi would have already been twenty feet under and pushing up a field of daisies.

Ignoring that, Kakashi swung the car door shut, the click of the automatic lock ringing ominously in Iruka's ears. The car slowly began to drive away, and Iruka silently loathed and pitied the driver for being stuck as Kakashi's chauffeur. Said wealthy young man gave Iruka a long, contemplative stare, to which Iruka only swallowed and looked away.

"Well?" the young teacher grumbled, hands fisting at his sides and his stomach doing some impressive somersaults.

Kakashi's lazy eye creased in amusement as he shoved his hands in his pockets and adopted his customary slouch. He gave Iruka one last look before turning on his heel and climbing the stairs. Iruka froze for a moment, surprised that Kakashi had turned his back on him. For an instant, that scarred man's mind screamed at him to escape, but he quickly banished the thought.

Kakashi trusted him enough to keep his promise and to not run away.

Part of Iruka's mind sneered at him. It wasn't as if Kakashi was very trustworthy himself. Why should Iruka give him that courtesy? Iruka didn't care whether or not he broke that insufferable, over-confident, manipulative bastard's trust!

_But, as far as I know, he hasn't told anyone about my secret. . . yet anyway._

Iruka's brow furrowed in thought as he watched Kakashi's back. He had to concede to that fact. Kakashi hadn't seemed to have revealed to anyone his true age, whereas anyone else would have probably reported him immediately. At the very least, Iruka could sit with him as he ate, right? Moreover, _not_ keeping his promise might make the silver-haired young man angry, which was something that Iruka didn't want, considering the circumstances. Really, what could it hurt?

Cursing his own idiotic refusal to ever break a promise, Iruka tentatively followed Kakashi up the slightly sloping stairway. He grimaced as the large building seemed to grow impossibly larger with each step, staring back at him dauntingly. The entire place seemed to simply glitter with splendour and dignity, which Kakashi perfectly matched while Iruka clearly didn't. Kakashi's tall frame, even while slouched, seemed to radiate both grace and authority; the way he sauntered up the steps would have made any male model jealous despite his posture. Both nonchalant and striking, that's what came to mind when you saw _him_. Self-consciousness prickled across Iruka's skin and he hoped that it didn't show too blatantly.

Iruka very nearly groaned and rolled his eyes when the two men swiftly opened the large doors, bowing slightly in greeting. Honestly, as if Kakashi were _royalty_. . .

"Welcome back, Hatake-san. Please allow me to take you and your acquaintance's coats," a feminine voice greeted them from just beyond the doors.

Iruka blinked in surprise at the waitress, dressed in a white-collar shirt and a black, high-waist skirt that reached her knees. She was quite pretty, with chestnut hair tied up in a neat ponytail and sparkling brown eyes. She greeted Kakashi and Iruka with a wide, pearly white smile.

"Thank you, Ayame-san," Kakashi said with the familiarity of a regular customer as the brunette women swiftly gathered both Iruka's and Kakashi's coats.

"The pleasure is mine," she said brightly as she passed on the coats on to another man in a tuxedo, who carried them off to who knows where.

"Um. . ." Iruka felt slightly uncomfortable as they took his coat away, but decided to keep it to himself. Kakashi brushed his shoulder with his arm, and Iruka wondered if it was meant to be reassuring or if it was just an accident.

"Table for two?" Ayame grabbed two menus from a polished redwood shelf without waiting for the answer.

Iruka was having a hard time keeping up with her as she flitted around, which was surprising considering who his little brother was.

"Ah!" she exclaimed just as she began to lead the pair to their tables. She pivoted on her heel to look at Iruka with a bright curiosity, "Forgive me, but I've neglected to ask for your name! How rude of me! Father would be so displeased," she chastised herself with a frown.

Iruka blinked in surprise, not expecting this light attitude from a waitress at a four-star restaurant. Granted, he'd never set foot in anything remotely as refined as this place before, so he had nothing to compare it to. In the movies though, the waiters and waitresses were always stiff and refined.

"Um, no, it's alright. I mean. . ." Iruka glanced irritably at Kakashi as he heard a soft snicker, "My name's Umino Iruka," he blurted out with a respectful bow.

This sent Ayame into a fit.

"Don't you dare, a _customer_, bow to me!" she said as if it were a grievous offense, "Imagine a restaurant where the customers bow to the servers! Ridiculous!" she huffed, then shot Iruka a hard look when he opened his mouth, "And don't you _dare_ apologize!"

Iruka felt his face heat up in mortification, and Kakashi snickered louder. Ayame remedied this by promptly slapping the aristocrat on the back of his silver head with one of the menus.

"You be quiet, Hatake-san! It's quite refreshing, actually, to have a customer with some _manners_, rather than a boorish oaf like you," she admonished.

Iruka found himself hopelessly confused about the mannerisms of high-class restaurants.

Kakashi apologized with absolutely no sincerity at all and Ayame rolled her eyes. Turning back to Iruka, she gave him another sunny smile.

"Please, allow me to show you to your table."

* * *

><p>"Relax. You're too tense."<p>

As if proving his point, Iruka jumped, knocking his knees on the underside of the table. Hissing in pain, the teacher rubbed his now bruised kneecaps.

"See?"

Ayame had taken them to a table on the far side of the restaurant, away from where most of the other customers were. Iruka had only caught a few of them in his peripheral; seeing their meticulous appearances and hearing their fake laughter made him feel out of place. He didn't know what he would do under their scrutinous gazes. It was a massive relief when Ayame had led him and Kakashi to a more secluded area, surrounded by three walls. The open entrance was directly across from a window, which made Iruka feel just a little less trapped while at the same time pleasantly isolated. A gold and crystal chandelier dangled over their heads, illuminating the red-clothed table brightly. The table was small and square, just large enough for two nobles to comfortably sit across from each other and enjoy their caviar as they drank champagne. Iruka was just glad that the area was private.

Kakashi watched as the young man across from him rubbed the scar across his nose, cataloguing the behaviour as a self-conscious gesture. He was well aware that Iruka was extremely uncomfortable in this environment, which was part of the reason why he had asked Ayame to put them in an isolated area, where the critical eyes of the rich wouldn't reach the young teacher. He would have liked to believe that it was solely for Iruka's sake, but he knew himself far too well for that. In reality, it was partially to appease his selfish desires.

He had quickly come to the realization that Iruka was very pleasant to look at. With the silky dark hair, large chocolate eyes, full lips, and a lithe, yet muscled physique, Iruka was well put together and had an exotic look about him that simply beckoned people's attention. Well, Kakashi wasn't entirely sure about other people, but it certainly caught _his _attention. He could spend lengthy amounts of time simply looking at the intriguing young teacher. And he would, of that he would make sure of. He was never really one to deny himself simple pleasures, no matter how strange it looked to outsiders.

And he'd be damned before he shared that pleasure with anyone else.

"I'm. . . just not used to places like this," Iruka admitted, "I've never eaten in a fancy restaurant."

Kakashi smiled at the awed expression on Iruka's features as the big brown eyes continued to look around at the high ceilings and beautiful tapestries.

"Maa, it becomes the norm after awhile. I've come here on a regular basis since I was a kid. Ayame's father is the head chef, owner, and namesake of this place," Kakashi said, trying to start conversation in the hopes of putting Iruka a little more at ease.

Iruka's expression brightened with interest, his posture straightening. He hadn't expected Kakashi to offer anything about his childhood to him.

"Oh. Is that why you and Ayame-san are so . . . familiar with each other?" Iruka asked, for lack of a better description of the love-hate relationship.

Kakashi seemed to catch his train of thought and sighed in mock weariness.

"She _is_ pretty impulsive—has been for as long as I've known her. Rather rude, if you ask me," Kakashi huffed, rubbing the back of his head like he was remembering the smack he received from the brunette girl earlier.

Iruka couldn't help but crack a grin.

"Or maybe she's only rude to _you_."

Kakashi snorted indifferently, swirling his glass of water with one hand and restinghis head on the other as he continued.

"She's been helping her father here ever since she was young. It was almost a given that she'd be my waitress whenever I come to eat," Kakashi paused to chuckle fondly, "There's never anything quite like having a waitress who won't hesitate to show you who's boss."

Iruka grinned at the image of a young Kakashi being served food by a headstrong Ayame. His mind conjured up the scenario of a little Kakashi making a smart remark before a little Ayame dumped the food all over his silver head.

Kakashi raised an inquisitive eyebrow as Iruka laughed at his own thoughts, but decided not to say anything about it. He was far too interested in the smile on Iruka's face. Kakashi watched as the teacher's eyes sparkled brightly and the tell-tale signs of dimples appeared on his cheeks. Kakashi realized suddenly that the sound of Iruka's laughter was soothing to the ears and that it was his first time hearing it.

_He has an expressive face_, Kakashi thought as he contently propped his head on his palm to observe the tan face, recalling the wide array of emotion that he'd seen on Iruka's features. However, most of that emotion equated to distress and anger, both of which Kakashi didn't think suited the young teacher. Coupled with the darkening bags under his brown eyes and the slight trembling of his malnourished muscles, it was clear that something wasn't quite right with the brunette.

"Could you stop staring at me like that?" Iruka asked after several seconds of silence, very unnerved by Kakashi's dark, barely blinking gaze.

Kakashi's visible eye curved upward, but the masked lips seemed to quirk in a smirk.

"Does it make you uncomfortable, Iruka?"

"It's weird," Iruka hissed.

"Really? I find it perfectly normal," Kakashi replied with feigned thoughtfulness.

"_You_ would," Iruka grumbled. Sipping at the water that he had already been served, he glared at the cubes floating in the tall glass. Water, at least, he could afford.

Kakashi couldn't help but grin at the sight of a slightly pouting Iruka. Really, the smaller young man was just so much fun to tease.

"Just me? It's only natural for people to look at something cute."

Iruka froze, and Kakashi watched in barely restrained delight as a deep red blush crawled up from his neck to tan cheeks.

"You. . . I. . ."

_That bastard_, Iruka thought, feeling his whole body heat up in embarrassment, _saying things like that just to tease me. _

Kakashi only grinned at him.

"Y-You can't just. . . That's not. . ."

"May I take your orders?"

As if he weren't already embarrassed enough, Iruka jumped and once again hit his knees against the table. They were probably going to be black and blue.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you, Umino-san," Ayame said apologetically as Iruka rubbed his knees, wincing.

"I'm fine! I'm just a little jumpy today," Iruka reassured her, giving her a kind smile.

"Well, you'll definitely be as relaxed as putty when you eat some of my father's food!" Ayame proclaimed proudly, "Now, what would you two like for breakfast?"

She turned to Iruka first out of politeness. Or to spite Kakashi, but Iruka would like to think that it was the former. He laughed nervously and shook his head, making Ayame frown slightly.

"No thank you, Ayame-san. I'm only here to—"

"We'll both be having the crust-less smoked turkey and spinach quiche," Kakashi cut in, giving Ayame a bright smile.

"What? No, I—!" Iruka's protests were swiftly interrupted by Ayame, who flashed Kakashi a knowing grin and grabbed the menus before Iruka had time to blink.

"Wonderful choice! A waiter will bring those to you two soon, but sadly my shift is coming to an end," turning to the spluttering Iruka, she smiled brightly and bowed, "It was very nice meeting you, Umino-san. I hope that you enjoy your food!"

"Wait, I—" But it was futile, because she was already gone, "Hatake-san!" Iruka cried in indignation at the guiltless expression on Kakashi's face, "What were you thinking, ordering for me like that! I don't have any money!"

Iruka felt himself beginning to panic, his over-active mind conjuring up gut-wrenching images of an outrageous food bill being smack down under his nose by an unfeeling waiter.

"Woah, woah, Iruka. You don't have to worry about that," Kakashi cut in as soon as he saw Iruka's brown eyes widen in panic.

"What?" Iruka breathed, freezing.

"I said," Kakashi said even more slowly than usual, "that you don't have to worry about the bill."

"I can't just stick you with the bill! Besides, I don't need anything to eat. I can last until lunch," Iruka shot back, debating going after Ayame before she had a chance to give the chefs their order.

"What's done is done," Kakashi replied with a dismissive wave of the hand.

After a few moments of contemplation, Iruka's eyes suddenly narrowed accusingly.

"How kind of you. And what do _you_ want in return for your _benevolence, _Hatake-san?"

Kakashi felt a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips. The young teacher was quite sharp.

"You're so distrustful of me, Iruka," he said with feigned hurt, shaking his head sadly.

Iruka crossed his arms, his body tense as the feeling of a cornered rabbit resurfaced. He realized with displeasure that the only way he could run was blocked by Kakashi.

"So you don't want any form of payment?" Iruka asked dryly, incredulous.

Kakashi's eye regarded him seriously, but his voice remained casual as he spoke.

"I didn't say that your suspicion was wrong."

Iruka closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling his blood pressure rising. Why couldn't Kakashi just give him a straight answer?

"Just tell me what you want," he said, summoning all of the patience he had acquired while taking care of a blond ball of hyperactivity, before daring to open his eyes. Admittedly, it wasn't much.

It was then that Kakashi's posture changed. The Hatake ceased his slouching against the back of his chair and leaned forward until his elbows rested onto the surface of the table. Long, pale fingers intertwined together in a business- like manner as a charcoal eye stared into mahogany irises.

As if it were some sort of cue, a waiter suddenly appeared, carrying a platter with porcelain plates, steam rising from the food almost ominously.

"I want you to answer all of my questions from now until we finish our meals."

* * *

><p>Overlooking the playground of the prestigious Konoha Primary School, was a tall building that stood proudly in the center of the school campus. The entire top floor was made up of bullet-proof glass walls, allowing for perfect view of the outside world while cloaking anyone within.<p>

Below, the fruit of some of the wealthiest people in the world waited for the school day to begin, safe behind the steel security gates patrolled by highly trained security guards.

Most of the children didn't run or scream, as the children in the local public schools did. The girls sat daintily at picnic tables and were careful not to get dirt on their uniforms or muss their hair, while the boys either stood together in groups and boasted about their family businesses or studied, depending on their age. There was, however, some organized games of hide and seek, but that was among the first, second, and third graders. Rough housing and such would only tear their clothes.

Children of the rich mustn't act disorderly. Foolish games did not make a respectable successor. What if they did something disgraceful and put their fathers and mothers to shame? Others would sneer at them, look down on them. They must behave. Study and behave.

A little girl in the fourth grade sat on a bench, reading a book that looked far larger than anyone would expect a child to read—her parents, after all, owned a book-selling company that had stores stationed world-wide. Beside her sat a little boy of the same age with shaggy brown hair. He fidgeted as his sharp canines bit into his lower lip, as if he wanted desperately to do _something_ loud and boyish.

Neither of them moved though. They must behave.

"HEADS UP!"

A ball went sailing through the air and whizzed by the girl so quickly that her pink hair was blown back from the force of the wind. With a yelp of surprise, she fell off the bench, both her and her book tumbling to the muddy ground. The boy beside her blinked in shock before bursting out in loud laughter, pointing at the girl in her humiliation.

A blond blur appeared at the girl's side, blue eyes wide and apologetic as the girl stared in dismay at her dirty clothes and ruined book.

"Oi, are you okay! I didn't mean to kick the ball so hard!" the young boy said in a naturally loud voice, worried.

"You. . . You. . ." the girl said softly, her jade eyes suddenly narrowing menacingly, "YOU BLITHERING _**IDIOT!" **_The blond boy began to back away as the girl rose to her feet, small fists shaking in rage at her sides as she began to stalk towards the object of her anger.

"I'M GONNA _**KILL**_YOU, _**NARUTOOOO**_!"

"W-Wait, Sakura! I-I didn't mean to!" Naruto babbled, fearing for his life as he scrambled to create some distance between himself and the volatile girl. Turning to the brown-haired boy, he begged, "Kiba, DO SOMETHING!"

A feral grin stretched across Kiba's face, revealing his sharp canines, as he leaped from the bench onto his feet; he was the terrifying image of a young boy with too much pent up energy. Leaning down, he scooped up a big gob of fresh, gooey mud, relishing the feeling of the substance dirtying his usually pristine hands.

"Hey, Sakura!"

The rosette whirled around to face Kiba, murder flashing in her green eyes.

Kiba hurled the mud ball, and Sakura's neck snapped back as it smacked her in the face.

Naruto stared, horrified, as a large gob of mud from Sakura's face hit the ground with a loud _squish_.

Every head in the playground turned in their direction.

"Dude, that was _so not what I meant_!" Naruto squeaked as Sakura began to twitch sporadically.

Kiba blinked once, realizing that his actions might not have been the brightest he'd ever had. Scratching the back of head sheepishly, he gave Sakura a sheepish grin, trying to ignore the manic light in the girl's eyes. Kiba figured he only had a few seconds to save himself. Opening his mouth, he barely got out a single word before the explosion came.

"**_!_**_**!**_"

It spread like wildfire. A school-yard full of children soon transformed from properly behaved angels to hyperactive, miniature devils. They abandoned the masks welded to their skin and became the children that they were meant to be.

"How barbaric."

A lone figure, dressed in long robes, looked down from the glass room. Obviously male, his shoulders sagged with age, but were rigid with severity. There were very obvious wrinkles on the features of his face. Half of his head was wrapped in bandages, leaving only one of his eyes visible—an eye that was permanently narrowed and cynical, as if the world was only something else to sneer at. His dark hair poked up from the bandages, coarse and showing signs of silver streaks. As he stared with contempt at the students, playing in his schoolyard, he stroked his scarred chin. Some chased each other, some were caked with mud while others threw mud balls as if they were born to do so; it was the kind of chaos that was unacceptable in their world. Most of them were of the most prestigious family lines, from families whose names struck fear in competing businesses across the planet.

But none of these children interested him as much as that one child who was the very source of the chaos, streaking through the battle field of flying mud with the skill of a veteran. That child, he had no name for. He could not place any business or company whatsoever with the blonde.

And yet, the child stood out, as if he were someone that the man _should_ recognize. The man never turned his eye away, following that child as if he were a magnet. Something unpleasant and decidedly bitter rose in his chest, making his lips curl back in a silent snarl. His fingers clenched and unclenched as the angry bile rose, burning his throat with hatred. The brightness of the boy's sapphire eyes fed into his anger, like oil to a flame.

And then, something clicked.

Without warning, the man stormed over to his file cabinet and tore open the drawers, digging through file after file, picture after picture. He dug away with urgency, feeling anticipation blooming within him as his hopes grew, until a shock of gold and azure brought his search to a complete stand-still.

A furtive smile curled his thin lips as a raspy chuckle erupted from his chest. His visible eye gazed at the name below the picture, a feeling of sick satisfaction and excitement igniting within his very bones. His calloused fingers caressed the name, increasing in pressure until his cracked nails left vicious scratch marks across the page, leaving the smiling face in the photo marred by four diagonal slashes.

"I have found you at last, Naruto Uzumaki."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Box<strong>: Phew, I'm so glad I finally got this posted! I'm seriously sorry guys for making you wait for so long! It's been what, a month? I hope it doesn't get this bad during the school year *knocks on wood*. Anyway, take care, all of you! Ja ne!

Story Detail: Okay, so I admit, nothing _much_ happened in this chapter. But rest assured, I'll try doubly hard to tickle your Kakairu fancies and thicken the plot. I've got a lot of work ahead of me, ne?

_Hit the shiny Review button. You know you wannaaaa~_

What? Who said that? *Looks to the heavens* Was that you, Itachi?


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